Breaking the Soul
by yume girl 91
Summary: Ichigo and co. have failed in their attempted rescue of Orihime. Forced to go back to Soul Society, they have left behind unwittingly one of their own. Never knowing that a darker, more sinister fate awaits her. UxR
1. OrDeRs

~Breaking the Soul~

Ulquiorra did not understand why this was being asked of him.

Sex was an act between two people attached through the so-called heart or merely acted out for the pleasure it induced. He couldn't foresee any gratification for himself brought upon by this..._amusement_ was what he believed Gin Ichimaru had called it.

_If he had so wished to partake of the Soul reaper woman's body, he could've done so himself_, the Cuatro thought disgustedly, entering into the keypad the code required to enter the captive's cell. Padded white walls met his apathetic gaze, no window to look out upon the desolate world. A small child-like figure sat huddled in the corner, she had looked up in a sort of anxious state when the door had de-pressurized that led him to think maybe she had been warned of his purpose.

Chains rattled when she slumped back down again.

"Do you know why I'm here, Rukia Kuchiki?"

Her head listlessly rose, deep violet-blue eyes affixed on his impassive face; she didn't respond any further. Ulquiorra advanced a few steps farther, the door sealing behind him. No reaction. That was to be expected. She had been warned that escape was futile. As well as resistance. Ulquiorra decided to test that theory by bending slightly and sliding his fingers through her dark hair. She flinched at his touch, twisting almost immediately as far as the collar and chains that bound her would allow.

"Don't touch me, filth!" She spat.

_There was still spirit within her_, Ulquiorra mused, bothered not the least from her abhorrence. This made the task he was given less repulsive in his eyes. "Look at me." His fingers snaked to her chin, roughly yanking her head around. Rage flared in purple irises, her jaw ground angrily though no sound came out.

Satisfied, Ulquiorra looked her over again, noting the thin, boyish body outlined beneath the torn robes._ This, defeated the ninth Espada? Impossible_. He sensed more than glimpsed the impatience behind the opposite wall of the observation room. Masked as another monotone patchwork of white squares it was in fact...an illusion. His Lord and the instigator of this, Gin Ichimaru were there, watching, waiting for the entertainment to follow.

He inclined his face toward her.

_He would not disappoint_.

Their lips brushed. Lightly. Indifferently.

He pulled away to observe her reaction.

Her shock was great, it had wiped all other emotion from her eyes.

"I will break you," Ulquiorra whispered.

~To be continued~

Disclaimer: don't own Bleach.

AN: Tomorrow we have to go some orientation--volunteer work. =.= so anyway, thanks for reading.

No flames-stupid comments-idiotic spammers!

Please review! :)


	2. sHaMe

_She felt dirtied. Corrupted at his touch. _

_Hands pushed apart her knees, she thrashed from side to side, the gag made of her obi cut into her lips. Her cries were stifled in her throat; fingertips dug into her hip unmercifully. No please..._

_His skin was so pale, the white jacket set aside._

_Her knees clamped shut, bruised thighs mottled from the coolness in the sealed room._

_His expression didn't change in feeling her flinch beneath his palms._

_Please--no! Something hard slipped between her legs, her eyes screwed shut._

_The Espada made no sound as he thrust into her._

~*~

Raw.

Curled up in a fetal position. Her wrists and ankles were skinned from the constant chafing of the cuffs. The sight of the reddish fluid staining the white floor was too much.

She wept.

Violated.

After a while a group of female Arrancars entered, silently cleansing her of the residuals of his presence. A clean white kimono was left beside a tray of food. The smell nauseated her.

Rukia slept again, undisturbed for a time.

~*~

"A little foreplay would've been nice, Ulqui-chan."

Ulquiorra observed the leering grin on the silver-haired Soulreaper's face and decided he did not need to ask for clarification. "I did as requested, nothing else was called for." he said flatly, his lids closing over his piercing green orbs.

"Yah but that was plain old penetration!" Gin whined, "I wanted ta see you make little Rukia-chan squirm in agony!"

He ignored the man.

"While I disagree with Gin..."

He turned to his Lord and creator with a detached look.

"I quite enjoyed the performance. That is why," cool brown eyes surveyed his most loyal Espada, "I wish for you visit _our guest_ more often. But please, Ulquiorra," Aizen smiled indulgently, "do not cover the dear's mouth. Her cries fascinate me."

~*~

"You haven't eaten." He glanced at the untouched tray near the door.

She didn't move.

"Would you prefer I force it down your throat?" The door closed behind him.

A quiver of fear shook her thin frame.

"Answer me, woman." He knelt beside her. The white clad shoulders trembled. "Bastard!" she hissed, wrenching up against the wall, bracing unsteady legs. Defiance and anger animated her eyes, twisting her bitten lips into a snarl of hate. He wasn't moved by her rage, "you lack the strength to harm me."

Rukia knew it was truth, _but still_...

She swung out. He caught her wrists, pushing her against the wall.

Gasping.

Wanting to cry.

Filled with shame at her own weakness.

Ulquiorra released her. Stepping back he observed her surprise quickly be masked by blankness. They stared at one another then he broke the stare first, turning on his heel. "Eat, woman. I will be back shortly to ascertain you have complied." At the door, he paused unsure of why he felt the need to tell her so, "know this, I derived no pleasure from our previous encounter."

He left then, confused with himself.

~To be continued~

AN: Thanks for reading.

No flames-stupid comments-idiotic spammers!

Reviews are always appreciated. :)


	3. DiSsOnAnCe

She stared at the locked door.

_I derived no pleasure from our previous encounter_.

Why did he say that? What was there to gain by telling her such a thing? Slowly she sunk down, her back pressed against the wall, her legs curled beneath her. Remembering his threat, her forehead puckered, her lips thinning as she scowled darkly.

_Bastard. How dare he threaten her!_ _Just for that--just for that, what, Rukia?_ she had to ask herself. His image floated before her mind's eye. The jagged tips of his black hair, his detached gaze, the passionless look in his eyes as he...she refused to go any farther. That much was must've been true then. He hadn't looked at all like he had enjoyed violating her, another perhaps might've showed some emotion like amusement or sick delight watching her squirm and struggle.

_Someone like Gin for instance..._

~*~

Ulquiorra couldn't erase the woman's face from his mind. He knew it was simply a recollection of Ichimaru and his Lord's orders and the disgust he himself had for touching the woman. He couldn't see the reason for his superiors enjoyment of the act. The need for Carnal pleasure wasn't rooted in the subconscious of a Hollow, the desire to procreate was one as well.

_A very human thing_, he mused, hand lying against the panel of the white cell door.

Inside, a very different captive was kept.

Orihime Inoue looked up, her eyes red and swollen, but her voice steady, "how is Rukia?"

~Outside Las Noches~

Failure.

They had gone against the empty world and were being forced to return with more than just the losses accrued beforehand. Soul Society had sent their Captains not to aid but to bring back the dissidents, imprisonment awaited them within the walled city until they had either been taught this was for the greater good or...until the day the war began.

_Rukia wasn't with them_.

Held by the binding spell of her stoic-faced brother, Ichigo couldn't believe Byakuya to be so cold-hearted. This was the man whom had risked his life to protect her against the traitor Ichimaru's Shinso; the very one whom had given her the choice after taking her back to the Soul Society, to defy orders and charge into Hueco Mundo for her friend.

_And yet..._

_"Rukia Kuchiki is dead."_

Ichigo's eyes darkened. _That pale-faced bastard! Giving him the choice to either turn back or continue on, Orihime waited_...

In the end he had chosen neither. _Orihime was the one to be rescued, not Rukia. Trust them. Trust everyone to return safe and sound and now_...

The imitation Garganta appeared ahead of them, the threads of the dimensional wall rippling once then opening fully. He saw the others move forward. Felt the invisible tendrils of power tugging on his legs, urging him to follow. He turned his head once and glared straight into the Kuchiki Noble's steely slate eyes.

"Rukia isn't dead."

Then suppressing all his will, all his desire to run back and prove them wrong, rescue the friends he was being forced to leave behind, Ichigo took one step forward.

_He would return_, he vowed. _And next time wouldn't be beaten_.

~To be continued~

AN: I noticed that as of late, there hasn't been anything updated/new on the UlquiRuki archive page! ): That makes me very unhappy! Where did everyone go?!

Anyhow...thanks for reading :)

No flames-stupid comment-idiotic spammers!

Reviews appreciated! :)


	4. aPpRoAcH

"I see you've done as ordered." He said, a hint of near surprise in his tone. Rukia glanced up, her eyes narrowed, "it wouldn't do to weaken myself voluntarily." She watched his approach warily; the door closing behind him without any motion on his part to close it. _It must be on sensory lock_, she thought. Escape was impossible him with before the only means of exit.

"...for when Ichigo comes for me." Rukia said carefully, gauging his reaction.

"That is a foolish notion," the Espada was swift to repudiate.

"How do you know?! You don't know Ichigo!" her voice was rising, her assumed calmness fleeing. She couldn't stand meek and silent when one of her closest friends was being insulted!

To her surprise, the corners of his mouth quirked. But he didn't smile. "I do not know that foolish trash? Quite the contrary..."

His look made a ripple of fear shudder down her spine. One that she was angry with herself for feeling. "What do you mean by that?!"

"Do you not know?" A secretive, almost sly look her way.

"Know what?!"

Her impatience seemed to amuse him more. "Ichigo Kurosaki chose to continue on and leave you to die."

Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears, she wondered that he couldn't hear it. "So...so what?"

"Where was your so-called bond then?"

"Shut up."

"Is that what a friend would do? Leave their Nakama--"

"Shut up! Shut up!" she covered her ears, sinking down to the floor. Not wanting to hear the poisonous lies. Of course she knew rescuing Orihime was their priority. She had told him herself not to worry about her, she could take care of herself. But--but...

"--alone--"

"STOPIT-STOPIT-STOPIT!!!!!!!!!!"

"...he must not care for you." The Espada finished quietly.

For some reason...it still...hurt. Hearing it come from the indifferent mouth of the Espada to whom none of it could possibly matter. It hurt inside, like a knife was being driven in between her breasts, plunging into her heart. Twisting. Piercing. Going deeper than she had thought possible.

Her eyes began to tear.

Her blurry gaze rose to his face. The slightest of smiles curved those cruel lips_. Laugh at me will you?_ She flew at him blindly, her rage suffocating her.

She cried out when his nails dug into the flesh of her wrists, squeezing them until her fists slackened, fingers trembling, numbing from the circulation being cut off. Only inches away, she stared into his hateful face, powerless. His expression showed disinterest at her teeth grating together. Her trembling only increasing as her arms were jerked high her head, her back colliding with the wall.

Again. She was back at the same place.

Trapped.

Weak.

Unable to tear his mocking eyes from their sockets.

"Do you hate me?"

"Yes." She whisper-hissed, burning tears trailing down her cheeks. Shame none the least of the emotions boiling like acid in her mind and heart.

"Good." he whispered, lowering his face to hers, roughly taking her lips. He felt her writhe, her body grinding into the padded wall, her mouth working furiously to repel his attack. _She was no submissive, this one_. Her jaw weakened; his teeth scraped her bottom lip. He tasted coppery sweetness before she bit down just as savagely on his top lip.

_Was this it? Could this be what Ichimaru had taken so much pleasure in watching...foreplay?_

Ulquiorra slanted his mouth harder against the woman's. Their tongues clashing, battling for dominance. _If so_...his hands had loosened on her wrists, one sliding to brutally grasp at the deep locks at the back of her head, fingers twisting in the thick softness. He felt her wince, his fingers crooking, clawing into her scalp now.

..._he found it not so unpleasant a task as previously_.

~To be continued~

AN: Thanks for reading :)

No flames-stupid comments-idiotic spammers!

Reviews appreciated :)


	5. FaLlInG

She stared at the wall, the inner revulsion of herself raging through her mind.

_How could she_--_No--it was his fault. Yes...he was to blame for making her feel this way_. _Bastard_...Rukia ground her teeth angrily, imagining a very satisfying picture of the green-eyed Espada lying in bleeding torment beneath Ichigo's--no. That wasn't enough. Ulquiorra Schiffer frozen in Sode no Shirayuki's white moon. Her eyes closed to the four padded cell walls and her own unkempt appearance; savoring the fantasy she had conjured up. She pulled her legs up to her body, falling onto her side, hugging her knees to her chest.

The ache was less severe now; but Rukia didn't think she could ever forget the way her first time was taken.

~*~

_The woman had struggled less_. He mused upon this, contemplating quite specifically the reasons for the sudden ceasing of thrashing. Oh, she had screamed. Shrieked incomprehensible words in his ear as he penetrated her. Ulquiorra had felt no inducement despite this cacophony ringing in his audible range to strike her. And when her screams had subsided into hoarse sobs, her body rocking from each thrust, he had ghosted his fingertips through the crown of her head, trailing his palm against her cheek.

_It was almost tender_--he rejected this thought. _He had no tenderness nor softness in his being. He was merely following_ _orders and if his Lord so commanded it, would not hesitate to kill the woman_.

~*~

"I am curious about one thing, Sosuke."

The deep burgundy wine swirled contentedly within the confines of the fluted glass. "And what is that, Gin?"

"Why...you would go along with my little plan for Rukia-chan." Gin said easily, his back to the console monitor, images of various parts of Las Noches panning around.

"Ah, that." There was no surprise evident in the man's tone, only a slight dismissive gesture accompanied by a smug smile, coffee brown eyes pausing to take an interest in the slight form of the Cuatro Espada entering his palace. "Well..." Aizen drank deeply of the fine wine, his satiation only complete beholding the partial slip of Gin's ever-present smile. _He did not know_. _Couldn't even begin to guess the conclusion of this fun little game_.

"Just an experiment, Gin..." Aizen leaned back, the tip of his finger tracing the rim of the glass, a faint, hollow whine issuing forth. "An experiment of the heart. Nothing more."

~*~

"Rukia..." Orihime sunk to her knees, the white dress pooled about her legs. In her mind the words of the stoic Espada ran around in dizzying circles until she wanted to scream for Rukia's forgiveness.

He had told her what he had done. Everything, had she not buried her head into the pillows, hands clasped desperately over her ears.

_It had been her fault_, he had said. _She was stupid to not have seen this coming_.

Orihime had bit her fist to keep from wailing, breaking down then and there. _Had he only come to rub it in her face_...she wondered now. _This violation of one of her dearest friends?_

He had said he was going back.

Back to Rukia.

Sitting beneath the window, bathed in the moonlight of a dead world; Orihime sobbed long and hard for the innocence of the halcyon days long past.

~Soul Society~

_I'm sorry_, Renji's look said. The redhead had quietly sealed the door to the quarters they had been allotted, enchanting it with spell after spell to ensure that they could not escape, while Byakuya had looked on for a time, expressionless.

It was as if he didn't care that she had been left behind.

Ichigo clenched his fists, the unfamiliar chain of ensorcelled handcuffs restraining his spirit pressure. No precaution was too great for Soul Society to take in ensuring one of their fighters, no matter how some might dislike his presence, unwittingly he caught Byakuya's eye. The Noble spun on his heel, haughtily striding away, leaving Renji to scramble after him.

_Not to risk his life again_.

The thought embittered his mouth.

_They would sacrifice one of their own for the greater good_.

_And that was something he could never forgive them for_.

_For Orihime and especially never Rukia_.

~To be continued~

AN: the development is a little slow, but with this one, it's intentional. Thanks for reading :)

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated :)


	6. cOrRoSiOn

The water fell in sheets over his body. Ulquiorra closed his eyes to the steam arising in billowing waves against his face. _That woman_...

_Her body convulsed beneath him, dispassionately he pulled back to observe her face_. _He expected most certainly detestation or any of the like emotions, but discovered nothing save for a quiet, kind of pity in the set of her small mouth and large eyes_.

Ulquiorra almost missed the frightened pain from their first encounter. _Was that what it was?_ He mused to himself, curling his fist around the streams of water flowing from the showerhead. An encounter meant nothing yet even as he tilted his face fully beneath the cascade, he could see every angular line of her face. The slight curves of her breasts, the pink tips of her nipples... Ulquiorra felt heat tense like a spring in his belly. Fascinated at the sensation, he allowed his mind to linger over the way the rigid tips brushed against his chest, her thighs gently rocking with each thrust. Instead of her horror, he saw her gently parted lips, her expression softening in mounting ecstasy.

Her cries of rejection were sweet breathy cries for more.

More of him.

Ulquiorra was almost surprised to come out his vision, with the insistent swell of the male part of him. Regarding its rise pensively, he wondered at his physical reaction to those images. _Did he want her?_ _It seemed almost improbable, ridiculous that he should foster such base human desires for a woman-any woman_. Running his thumb experimentally over the head of his cock, Ulquiorra attempted another tactic. He thought of the woman, Orihime Inoue, with her large doe-like gray eyes and pink lips. He pictured her white dress falling, her body bared to his inspection.

He saw the full, heavy breasts deviants like the Quinta fantasized about. He felt the heaving passion as he touched her body, slipped into her wetness...

His eyes opened. _Why had the Inoue woman's face been replaced by the Shinigami woman's? Why had he lifted his head to encounter her frosted blue eyes and lips pulled back into a smirk?_ In vain he tried to recall Inoue's long ginger strands flowing through his fingers and instead saw shorter raven black strands, the back of her head cupped in his palm.

_He ached_.

_He longed to soothe the throbbing-aching-burning want_...

_Inside of Rukia Kuchiki_.

His hand rose and turned the handle. The water stopped. Methodically he dried and dressed himself. Taking care to take the long way to her cell. Before the door, he hesitated. _Twice_. The knowledge made the lust burning in his veins, lessen. _Might Aizen-sama not wish for her to be worn out with this action?_

He closed his eyes. _One look_.

_That's all_. The door opened to his key.

She looked up, she had been resting her elbows on her upraised knees. He saw that she wore clean clothing. Her hair had been brushed to lay with perfection against her shoulders.

He saw the confusion in her eyes.

"Ulquiorra?" she said.

He said nothing.

Approaching her where she sat with her back against the wall.

He dropped to one knee, clasping her cheek in his hand. The fear was gone. He knew it wasn't a fear of him that she'd had in the beginning it was the fear for the weakling Inoue-her precious friend. He felt himself smile slightly remembering the woman's agony and tears.

He knew she saw his smile but wasn't afraid.

" Rukia Kuchiki..." Ulquiorra heard her sharp intake of breath, felt it ghost along his skin as he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

After a moment, he let go.

Her face was inexpressive even though he longed to know her mind.

"Orders." she said suddenly. Rhetorically as if the answer was clear.

Ulquiorra lifted his fingertips from her cool skin, a bitterness on his tongue, "yes."

It was easier this way.

~*~Her p.o.v~*~

_Why had he come? Wasn't once enough in a day to satiate Aizen's voyeurism?! _ Rukia kept her face blank and cool regarding his approach with no nervousness or glowering despise. instead she looked and questioned in a completely detached manner, "Ulquiorra?"

He made no reply, but then he never spoke much. So, that didn't bother her.

No, that's not right. It did, in a way his movements, his hand reaching for her.

It disturbed her, the quiver in her belly. Like the stirring of her body, the anticipation of the pain, her flesh parting to accept his organ. Her chest constricted, a crawling, slithering sensation. A knowledge of dirtiness. As if by his mere touch he could contaminate her, make her unclean. Rukia didn't start at his hand on her face. In fact...his fingertips were warm on her cold skin. She felt herself tighten inside, the familiar rush of warm wetness moistening her womanhood. She knew that's what he had come for, to take her for Aizen's pleasure.

She was almost ashamed of it, that her body should physically react in such a way to his closeness. The throb between her thighs, the pulse of her clit as she swelled. Rukia knew it all and more. Watching him take his length in his hands, his expressionless face as he stroked himself. She knew it was wrong, the ache filling her. He had never remarked on her wetness the second time nor did she cease her screams. To give in would be to admit that was lust she felt. That her womanly body had needs.

_Needed him._

_The thought both horrified and aroused her_.

Rukia stared into his poison green orbs.

A slight smile played on his mouth. She wondered how it would feel to take him in her hands, to stroke his penis and watch it harden. She wondered if his expression would change, if he would show any emotion at all.

"Kuchiki Rukia..." his voice was quiet, speaking her name.

Rukia inhaled sharply as he closed the distance between them.

His lips were soft, she found.

It was only for a moment and she was reminded of the first time he had come.

Coldness spilled into her soul, "orders." That's all it was. She had seen the disinterest in his eyes, there was no reason to believe this was anything but that.

"Yes." Ulquiorra agreed, his hand leaving her face.

Rukia would never admit that she missed his touch when he left.

~Living world~

"Are you sure about this...Yoruichi? It'll mean breaking the reconciliation..."

"Kisuke." Her smoky voice held a hint of teasing despite the gravity of the situation, "when have you ever known me to back down? This...won't be the first time. However..." her eyes were yellow cat's eyes glowing in the darkness of the shop, "I'm sure SoiFong won't object to my visiting the boys. _Alone_. Once we've heard their side, we'll be able to proceed from there..."

~To be continued~

AN: thanks for reading ^^

No flames-haters-stupid comments! I mean it!

Reviews appreciated! :)


	7. CoNfOrMiTy

Orders. Yes, he must always remember it was Aizen-sama whom had given him purpose.

_If duty called for it, he would present the woman's head to his Master_. Ulquiorra checked his thoughts, discerning the slightest trace of hesitation present. Unconcerned yet curious as to the reasoning behind this seed of disinclination, he probed the thought.

The woman's face came to his mind.

_"Orders." _The word echoed in his consciousness, taunting, reminding him that she had no place occupying his thoughts thus. "Yes." His own answer, supplied so readily, so graspingly as if to cling onto that one justification.

It was by Aizen-sama's order that he violated her.

It was by no fault or desire of his own that he continuously debased his enemy.

(*~*)

The tray came. Rukia had almost anticipated its arrival with the filling of her gaze with her most hated enemy. She had expected **him** to come. Now, that he had redefined the line between them, she had no fear of receiving him with the utmost hate and despise. And yet...

Another came in whistling a happy tune, another filled her sight, towering over her in white robes and slitted eyes. "'Kyorra-kun couldn't come today, Rukia-chan." Ichimaru cocked his head at her, his ever-present grin widening with the increase of her alarm. "So, I came in his stead. Won't you play with me?"

(*~*)

Ulquiorra learned from an Arrancar servant from the kitchens, that the woman's meal had been ordered already. Picked up and served. He left in a much perplexed state. _Were not the two women, Orihime Inoue and Rukia Kuchiki under his sole care?_ Agitatedly he crossed the great hall, taking long strides down the corridor he knew would eventually lead him to her cell.

_Was it one of his superior's? Aizen-sama surely would've spoken to him if there had been any change in the routine_. Ulquiorra's steps slowed. It had slipped his mind to request the Inoue woman's breakfast. _He_ _had become preoccupied with the Shinigami...no, orders came first. He had to ascertain Rukia Kuchiki's condition before attending to his other duties_.

The door was unlocked. His hand fell from the keypad, seeing the familiar numerical code had already been input by another. His hearing, so much greater than a normal human's could discern the lust-filled grunts permeating outward. The walls and floor of the cell were infused with an ore that broke down spirit pressure so he could not sense the intruder's identity.

Nnoitra, he presumed. Anger rising at the thought of the deviant laying his filthy hands on Rukia.

The door slowly de-pressurized.

Then opened.

Gin Ichimaru glanced unconcernedly over his shoulder, slivers of red looked out from his narrow, pointed face. "Ah, 'Kyorra, fine day we're having, is it not?"

Ulquiorra didn't answer, his gaze fell to the small tear-stained face that was twisted his way. Rukia lay on her stomach, the hem of the plain yukata bunched up against the small of her back. Her slender legs were spread; Ichimaru was buried up to the hilt inside of her.

"It was so stimulating watching you take the little doll, that I just couldn't help myself!" Gin's smile was little more than a triumphant sneer. Ulquiorra kept his expression neutral, indifferent. "You are hurting her."

"Am I?" Gin made no attempt to move.

Rukia's face screamed the pain she could not say aloud.

Ulquiorra recognized this as a Shinigami binding spell. In the pockets of his hakama, his hands clenched. "You will damage her if you continue to use her this way." His voice was emotionless. Simply stating the fact without concern for the woman. That he was sure of. So, why did Ichimaru look at him that way?

"Care for a turn?" Ichimaru said impishly, standing suddenly, tidying his robes.

The woman's passage wept blood and semen.

Ichimaru had taken her dry and torn her apart.

Ulquiorra remained motionless by the door as the Shinigami went past him.

"You know, Rukia-chan is so nice and tight...I just may come for more.." Ichimaru's voice was gloating and his narrow red orbs brimmed with sickening satiation.

Rukia made not a sound, but her shoulders trembled just the slightest.

Ulquiorra dug his nails into his palms, listening to the fox-faced Shinigami's laughter as the door slowly closed behind him.

(*~*)

"Don't look at me." Her voice caught on the last word. Ulquiorra stared down at her impassively, then slowly turned and simply walked out. Rukia felt the invisible binds clasping her wrists loosen, her throat felt like sandpaper. It hurt to move. _Why_..her lips pressed to the padded floor, forming words even though no sound came out.

_Why was she being made to suffer this-?_

Her eyes closed with burning tears.

The door opened soundlessly. Rukia didn't hear it, didn't sense his approach, until a shadow fell over her. Her cheek scraped the padded surface, her head turning to the side. Ulquiorra knelt at her hip, a bowl of water and a small stack of clean towels lay folded neatly beside it. _What was he-?_

She flinched. She couldn't help it, as the first moistened cloth grazed the inner curve of her left cheek. "Don't move." His quiet voice warned. Rukia felt the embarrassment of the position she was in, yet it was lessened noticeably by the fact that he nothing to her.

She didn't think she would've let Ichigo touch her in such an intimate way.

Water trickled, the burning soreness didn't fade.

His strokes were careful, wiping away the stickiness that clung to her skin. Once in a while she would hear the tinkle of water from the bowl as he dipped the towel in. Rukia looked once and saw it stained a brownish red. She didn't look anymore after that.

"You..didn't have to.." Rukia mumbled, forgetting his warning and jolting as he dipped in farther. "..do this." she finished uncomfortably. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed he made no reply or relieved that he said nothing as she couldn't stop the small movements of her body.

At one point his palm slid over her cheeks, gently easing them apart. She tensed, expecting the rough head of an engorged penis pushing eagerly at her, instead, the damp towel rubbed at her passage. She felt foolish then. _Of course he knew better than to rape her so soon after_...

She tried to stop the tiny whimper from slipping past her lips.

Ulquiorra heard it anyway.

Rukia knew she should've been ashamed, showing weakness to an enemy, but somehow...his touch felt like one given for comfort. Like the kind Ichigo would've given to comfort her.

(*~*) Soul Society~

"You want us to _what!" _

Yoruichi replied evenly, "keep your voice down."

Ichigo scowled, but did it for once. He was sure SoiFong honored her old mentor's request to visit them unaccompanied, which meant as well that there likely weren't many guards standing outside the single level building. _If only he could get_..

"Don't even think about it." she read his thoughts. "You'd never make it past Byakuya. Let alone there are limits to how much SoiFong trusts me. If you want this to work," her golden green eyes looked from him to Ishida and Chad, "then you're going to have to accept their terms."

"But, Rukia-!"

Yoruichi was only mildly surprised he hadn't mentioned Orihime. "Ms. Kuchiki..." she faltered, sensing Ichigo's intense amber eyes boring into her. "I believe is as you say, still alive, but held also by the enemy. To allay suspicion, you must appear as if you understand their reasons and won't go charging recklessly off to some failed mission the moment you're let go."

Ichigo was the only one who winced.

Ishida dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. He could see the wisdom of this. Be on their best behavior and the Shinigami would see this and not keep them under such close watch. Sometime there would a chance to slip away, to go back.

Back to Hueco Mundo to rescue the friends they had left behind.

~To be continued~

AN: thanks for reading ^^

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated! ^^


	8. wRaTh

He was disturbed. Solely from the fact that Rukia Kuchiki was his duty and yet...

Ichimaru was his superior. A subordinate had no right to question the actions of a higher up being. Aizen-sama must've permitted it. There were no other explanations. Aizen-sama had allowed Ichimaru to...rape her.

He didn't like this.

The body of a Shinigami was frail. Permanent damage might've occurred had he not come upon them when he had. Warmth seeped between his fingers. Absently his fist uncurled, removing it from his pocket, Ulquiorra glimpsed the red oozing from the broken skin of his palm. _He was angry?_

Replacing the other, he noticed tiny crescent marks in the flesh. Tiny slits gleamed dully from the sharpness of his nails piercing them. His mind vaguely registered the absence of pain. Arrancars possessed Hierro that was almost armor-like in repelling simple attacks. It could not be cut easily. _Rukia_...he had been thinking of her.

Her face...her eyes filled with the most bitterest of shame.

Ulquiorra thought no less of her; for he was sure she had expected pity and not desired it.

But, he didn't pity her. Rather, he had pity for no one. He had merely anticipated her state of mind and understood that she wouldn't have wanted the touch of the Arrancar servants. Despite their absence of the heart, he had sometimes detected something slightly different in their manner of speaking about the Shinigami.

The food as well was carefully prepared without an express order for it to be of fine quality.

Aizen-sama couldn't have cared less whether or not the victuals were to Rukia's liking.

She was only kept alive for his own amusement.

That brought another, far more unpleasant task to mind. Orihime Inoue. In the space of time between retrieving the towels and cleansing as best he could, the Shinigami's rectal passage. He had completely forsaken his duty to the woman.

This was not to be born. He hadn't accomplished the duties Aizen-sama had set out before him. Ulquiorra felt a brief sense of disorientation as if the world before him was sliding apart, reforming into something different. Beyond what he knew.

Everything recorded by his eye was truth.

Real. The long white high-ceilinged corridor hadn't changed. It continued on down the path to Aizen-sama's quarters. Something in him, something remaining from his discarded perception, urged that he leave it be.

Aizen-sama was not to be questioned over such trivial a matter.

But, another, stronger desire made his body begin moving again. Down, down to the white double doors.

_Rukia_.

He had to know the reasoning behind Aizen-sama's action of allowing Gin Ichimaru to damage her.

The woman-Orihime Inoue was of no importance.

*~*)

Rukia's slumber was brief. Coming out of a waking dream, her unfocused eyes blearily opened to the padded floor. Where was she? A strange musky scent hung in the air, one that turned her stomach. As her vision cleared further, she slowly took in the details of the padded three walls and the iron bound door set deep into the fourth wall.

_A cell_. The blessed numbness faded. All at once Rukia remembered where she was and what...what Ichimaru had done to her. She bit down harshly on her lip, choking back the sob that threatened to escape her raw throat.

Distantly she felt her nakedness hidden by the white sheet. The fabric was soft, she discovered as her fingers hesitantly gripped the hem and tugged it up higher over her shoulders. _Ulquiorra must've covered her_. For a fleeting second she had a brief remembrance of his light touch, much like one given for comfort. It had been different than others she had received from him. Others like the brutal chafing of her inner thighs and the nails that dug into the tender flesh of her hips.

_No, Ulquiorra had been different_.

That wasn't her imagination_. But, why?_ Rukia puzzled over the subtle change in his exterior. _What did it mean?_ It wasn't pity, she was sure of that. He was a heartless creature, one that didn't hold honor and respect for anything. Least of all his enemy.

_Was she even still his enemy? _ Most likely Soul Society knew of their failed mission. Disgust filled her when she thought of what Orihime had been degraded as. _A traitor_. But, surely. Surely! Her brother would know. He would know it was false and that she was still alive...wouldn't he?

Ulquiorra's words replayed in her mind.

_"Ichigo Kurosaki chose to continue on and leave you to die."_

Rukia's silent curses on Ulquiorra lacked depth. Doubt had seeped in, poisoning her beliefs, turning her towards utter despair. _What if Ichigo had believed she had died? What if they all believed it? Then there was no_...

The quiet, broken sob shattered the still air.

_Escape_.

(*~*)

"Ah, Ulquiorra..." Aizen was seated regally on the large high-backed sofa, on a small table near him, reposed an elegant silver pot. "I was just about to have some tea. Would you care to join me?"

Though tea was served during the meetings, none of the Arrancar had ever tasted it.

Ulquiorra had no inclination to do so now, however, he still accepted the deeper winter cup without a refusal.

The fragrant steam curled gently upward, Aizen inhaled of it deeply, his eyes closing in enjoyment. "So, what is it you wished to question me about?"

Ulquiorra kept his expression blank, concealing well his surprise. "It is a-trivial matter. I won't concern Aizen-sama with it."

"Come now!" Aizen's expression was open, friendly. "Speak and I will be the judge of whether or not I shall be concerned."

The kindly tone disguised a will of iron. Ulquiorra was no fool. He recognized the command hidden within the assumed mildness. "It is..about Kuchiki Rukia."

Aizen inclined his head in a listening position. "Go on."

"Ichimaru..."

(*~*) Soul Society~

Flanked by Renji and another Shinigami from the Sixth Squad whose name escaped him; Ichigo stared through the small sea of black robed warriors to the plain stone tablet marking the earth.

_In loving memory_..

He stared hard through the painful burning in his chest. The anger rising despite his promises to Yoruichi and the lies she had cleverly spun for them to recite. He wanted to tilt his head up at the sky and yell for all the world to hear that Rukia Kuchiki wasn't dead.

But, he couldn't. Not when their eyes were on him. Not when he had to fake sorrow for a friend whom had been lost.

_Orihime didn't receive a marker or even an acknowledgement. _

_She was still a traitor in every sense of the word and hadn't been cleared of the false charges_.

Byakuya's impassive face rankled him deeply inside. A small box had been buried in the earth containing a few things that had been left behind. Ichigo thought of the stack of badly drawn Chappy pictures in his closet and scowled darkly.

This was a pretense. His eyes slowly traveled over Ukitake's bowed head and Kiyone sobbing in Sentaro's arms. Those whom hadn't been close to her, but knew her by face or name; wore grim expressions at the first casualty of the War.

He knew they were all silently vowing vengeance for the fallen comrade.

The way old man Yamamoto had wanted.

A sacrifice had to be made, a death to muster the idle Shinigami to arms.

Rukia had been that sacrifice.

(*~*) Las Noches~

Orihime knelt before the great white sofa, her legs pillowed beneath her.

_Rukia_...

The tears had long since dried on her cheeks. Ulquiorra hadn't come and that lead her mind so naturally used to happy things to fill with anguish. She could only imagine the agony Rukia was going through...and it had been all her fault.

She was powerless, she saw that now.

Unable to help Ichigo, forever a burden to her friends.

Fresh tears blurred her sight.

The door creaked open.

She turned, "Ulqui-"

"O-ri-hime..." Two small Arrancars grinned wolfishly at her from the crack in the door. "Can...you...come...out...and...play?"

(*~*)

"Gin was merely bored and in need of a trifle amusement." Aizen's smile was generous without a hint of censure nor reproach in face or manner. "He has always possessed some degree of-ah fascination with Ms. Kuchiki. Today's occasion was merely an instance of it."

The tea filling his cup was cold. The ceramic was cool in his hands. Yet Ulquiorra did not relinquish the hold he maintained. _Fascination?_ He had never understood his Master's keeping of such a dangerous man whose moods were incomprehensible to the world. Even to _his_ eyes, Ichimaru's smile was unreadable.

Ulquiorra attempted to recollect himself. "I would ask that Ichimaru-san not interfere with my care of the woman."

Aizen's smile remained the same, however in the depths of the dark brown eyes something cunning glittered within. "I fail to grasp your meaning. Gin did not cause any interference, Ulquiorra. Ms. Kuchiki received her meal, did she not?"

_That was true_, part of him conceded. "Yes, however, physical damage did occur. It is merely-" not even he could understand where the desire for the acknowledgement of Ichimaru's transgression came from.

"Ulquiorra."

He fell silent.

Aizen regarded him with a faint half-smile and smug, knowing eyes. "Have you not done the same?"

"No." The word slipped from his parted lips before his analytical mind understood the implications of what his simple denial meant.

"Ulquiorra..there is no difference between what you have done and what Gin has done in your mind."

~To be continued~

AN: thanks for reading ^-^

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated! ^- ^


	9. WaNt

_The same?_ Ulquiorra's mind having so lately declaimed all matter of guilt that he shouldn't feel toward the captive Shinigami found itself momentarily stunned by this new revelation. _Of course he and Ichimaru weren't the same. How could his Lord place them alike?_

"You are mistaken." The words vibrated in the air with a defiance, a refutation of any guilt on his part. To Ulquiorra's surprise however, Aizen took it all with slight smile and the shaking of a head. "Deceiving yourself when the truth is plain before your eyes. I must admit I am surprised with you, Ulquiorra. You above anyone else know the workings of the world. Have you not forced Kuchiki Rukia into sexual acts that can only be construed as _rape_?"

_Under his command_, whispered the part of him that wasn't wholly submissive. Yet his lips pressed tighter in a thin, charcoal line. "I have not."

Sadistic amusement glittered within the brown depths of his lord's eyes, "no, then. I suppose you haven't."

Some vague unease disturbed his calm perception. Ulquiorra could find no reason for it.

"Do you find your task pleasant to the extent of garnering pleasure from your-" Aizen proceeded delicately, "activities with Ms. Kuchiki?"

"I do not."

Silence reigned again.

This time a quiet sigh punctuated the air. "Do not lie to me, Ulquiorra. Do you lust for the feel of Kuchiki Rukia's flesh?"

_Lust was a human thing, of craving for the satiation of physical desire. Hollows were beings without their hearts, scraped apart so that only the baser instincts of survival and hunger remained. _He couldn't deny the sensations his body felt as being a manifestation of base desire. He _wanted_ her. This much was true.

"Yes." The admittance was quiet. Ulquiorra wore the same expression of apathetic disinterest as he had previously regarded the world before Kuchiki Rukia's captivity. His perception indeed hadn't changed, rather...

His Lord smiled broadly. "Then, she will be yours..." the keen eyes watched him with growing amusement. "**Only** if her heart belongs to you."

(*~*)

The crack resounded throughout the room. Orihime's forehead had collided with the small table, orange hair became matted to her scalp. Loly stalked toward her, grinning maliciously. _Is this my punishment?_ Blearily, Orihime's gray eyes fluttered open. The Arrancar stood over her, a ball of dark energy rolling between her hands.

_Oh! Kuchiki-san! Would that our places have been exchanged from the beginning! _She thought mournfully, the acrid taste of blood on her tongue.

"Say goodbye, bitch!" Loly cackled, releasing the Balas.

Rukia's face was the last thing Orihime saw in her mind.

(*~*)

The door opened. Rukia started from her reverie, her heart pounding in her eardrums. But it was only the Arrancar servants. Alike in their long-sleeved white dresses and somber faces. "Kuchiki Rukia," one intoned, hands clasped respectfully before her. "Do you require assistance walking?"

_The nerve-! _ For a moment Rukia was irritated then realized they most likely hadn't been told. _All the better_. She would rather not be the object of their pity. Testing the shakiness of her limbs, Rukia climbed to her feet, wincing at the soreness in her backside. "I-I'm fine." She lied, standing as straight as she could. She was glad of the fact that Ulquiorra had dressed her somewhat; her hand crept up to keep the sides of the white robe closed.

Sensing as though they didn't believe her. Rukia repeated louder, "I'm fine." Her eyes narrowed on them, imperiously adding. "Are you taking me somewhere?"

The one that had spoken before, seemed to recollect something. "Yes, come with us. Lord Szayel-Aporro will be examining you."

(*~*)

"..come out, Gin." Aizen watched the screen showing various areas of the palace. "I know you heard everything."

The ever-grinning silver haired Shinigami released a silvery laugh. "Ah..sharp as ever, Aizen-sama. But what_ever_ do you have in store for 'Kyorra-kun and Rukia-chan?" Like a curious child, the ex Taichou tilted his head to the side, hands clasped at the small of his back.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Gin." Aizen's face was bathed in the glow of the bluish glow of the monitor. "Yes, I would!" the other pouted at the deliberate tease. The Lord of Hueco Mundo simply smiled mysteriously, "I've many things in store for them which should prove to be quite amusing. I am most curious however, as to how soon little Rukia's weak heart will break. Once she learns of her most tragic loss..." Aizen glanced at the window depicting the Arrancar girls savage triumph. "I suppose she will have no one to turn to save for... Ulquiorra. Then when that happens...the real entertainment begins."

-To be continued-

AN: thanks for reading!

No flames-stupid comments-spam!

Reviews appreciated! :)


	10. dIsTuRbEd

_Her heart_. Ulquiorra needed no clarification as to understanding the single condition imposed upon him. He knew he could not tear the organ from her chest and hold it in his hands and say he possessed it. Because that wouldn't preserve her existence.

Briefly he considered the repercussions of such an action.

With his Lord's permission, the newly deceased Shinigami could be taken before the Hogyoku. The rest could be done as memory blanks were exchanged for artificial memories. A new-different name could be chosen as well as a rank or he would simply make her his fraccion. That in itself was possible yet he was loathe to ask for more.

So, this would have to suffice.

His soft sigh echoed along the empty, high-ceilinged hallway. Preparations had to be made, as much as he despised _him_, he knew no other whom could exam her in a satisfactory manner. _The Octava Espada, Szayel-Aporro...first then he would deal with the unpleasant task of Orihime Inoue._

(*)*)*)*)

The room was large, sterile with a cold impersonality like a hospital in the living world. Rukia had no wish to linger there for long, her eyes though dry, feeling cracked around the lids, watched warily as a trapped animal might; the cheerfully whistling Arrancar going through a cabinet of glass bottles on the other side of the room.

_What am I here for?_ Or. _What are you going to do to me? _ Were the responses her mind desired to speak. That hadn't changed. But, she couldn't, countenance that is, her reaction as the pink-haired Arrancar had turned around after finding whatever it was he was searching for and making his idle way back to where she stood in front of the operating table.

Her body stiffened. Her hands fell away from the white robe, finding purchase on the slick, hard edge of the slab behind her. Gone was the snappish bravado she had thought to retort in defiance of her condition. Instead all her eyes saw was the tall, slightly stooped figure in the hideous white uniform.

"Don't hurt me!" Involuntary it left her lips as a cry. Shame clenched her heart at such weakness moments later then eased as the Arrancar stopped, with the queerest look on his face. "I say..._hurt you?_ Why, would I?" shaking his head so that the wavy pinkish locks ruffled his ears, the Espada pushed a single index finger up the bridge of his nose; the gesture reminding her of Ishida in his more business-like moments.

She felt the Arrancar watch her then make a few tut-tut noises then abruptly spin on his heel. "Alright this will never do! Never do at all! Ulquiorra never told me the patient would be this afraid of me-really! And I'd heard that you were such a spitfire little girl!"

Rukia opened her mouth to contest that, then slowly gathered the sides of the kimono, holding it tightly closed to her chest. _Ulquiorra...had them bring her here?_ Her brow furrowed. _For what purpose? _

"There are..shower stalls.."

She looked up surprised.

The Arrancar she now vaguely recalled as the servants addressing as Lord Szayel, flicked a gloved hand to a doorway she hadn't noticed before that lead into a longer hallway dimly lit by a few muted lights in overhead sconces. "The showers are down there, to the-uh right. You can bathe yourself, correct? You will not require assistance?" She was surprised by his question. _Did she look physically weak?_ Somehow this made her angry, the words out before she even had time to process the import of them.

"I can bathe myself just fine, thank you!" The bite had returned.

Szayel seemed mildly pleased as she caught the hint of a smile. "Alright, alright. Just asking...anyway, I'll have one of my Fraccion bring a change of clothes then we can begin the examination." Then he added. "Just to make sure no permanent damage occurred."

_What did it matter..?_ Her gaze fell, her steps were slow, shuffling. Passing beneath the doorway, something else he said, spoken almost as an afterthought made her hesitate. Feeling something strange then inside...like an emotion she couldn't decipher.

"I had never seen that boy show so much- well, it's not like he ever shows much emotion to begin with. Rather I assumed he was a cold fish or some-"

"Who?" Rukia was sure she knew, but wanted confirmation.

Szayel paused then continued in a softer, more subdued tone. "Ulquiorra. He came to me and asked me to take a look at you."

(*)*)*)*)

The stalls ran five deep along one side of the long rectangular room. Shallow box-like bottoms contained the water to swirl down round metallic drains, the showerheads were standard conical fixtures. Rukia barely took note of her surroundings, her fingers finding the bolt and shooting it home.

Once that was accomplished, her shoulders slumped, her shaking knees unable to hold her up any longer. Falling down, Rukia sat on her ankles, her eyes screwing shut in pain as the ache sawed through her lower half. _Damn it_... helplessly she felt the moistness prickle the corners of her eyes. _How she hated this weakness-!_ Gripping her balled hands so hard that her knuckles whitened.

_As a Kuchiki, she never should've succumbed to an enemy! Died rather than let this shame befall her.. but then...wasn't wishing she could die, the same as admitting defeat? _ Coldness seeped into her very being. _That they had won? _Aghast at the turn her thoughts had taken, she could only conclude it were so. _To be driven to the point of despair of longing for true death...was what they wanted_.

_Well, she was damned if she was going to give in!_

Taking in a few breaths to steady herself, Rukia pushed back the unkempt hair hanging forward into her face. Determination glinted in her eyes. How could her faith in Ichigo have been shaken so easily? Of course he'd had his reasons for going after Orihime, hadn't she herself told him before they split from the five paths not to worry about her?

Rukia felt guilty then for her faithlessness.

It was Aizen-all Aizen and his twisted little games. her mind was quick to absolve Ulquiorra of any fault though this wasn't wrong since he himself had more or less said that it was because of orders.

**Orders**.

The terrible word echoed in the recesses of the four white stone walls, startled Rukia hadn't even realized she had spoken aloud, barely recognizing her own voice for its hollow, deadened intonation. Why had she felt such a piercing ache of disappointment lance through her as if by a physical weapon?

Yes...those growing reactions, those cries of pretence for no more...

...were for _more_...

Had begun to eat away at her conscience.

**I don't want him**. Rukia could tell herself that, sitting on the cold tile in the dim room and force her mind to repeat it over and over. She could even make-believe that she believed it. Wash the fluids from her body, change clothing, shut her eyes and scream for everyone she would never see again.

_But, she could never_ _hate_ _him_.

Rukia felt sick with herself. Standing, casting off the robe almost repulsed by its whiteness. By its horrid travesty of purity.

_She had tried to convince her own stubborn mind that it was hate she looked at him with; that she wasn't anticipating his arrival_- The floor was cold under her bare feet. The sound of her footsteps echoed dully as she crossed the room to the farthermost stall. She stepped in, turning the knob until the head poured water. It was warm.

_-She hadn't been hoping to feel his lips on hers as a mockery of the very act conceived of between two people in love_.

Her hand twisted the knob to the left harshly.

_That kiss was always a presage to more_.

The stream turned cold, ice droplets rained down flattening her hair, running into her eyes and out like tears. The coldness was like her insides.

_Of the heat that set fire to her flesh, the brusque impersonality of his hands holding her in place, all of it. Every detail-every touch-every thrust that she had wanted to abandon her_ _**self**_ _to and just forget the faces- smiles-words- laughter and the whole world for_.

_Just to open her legs and moan as he fucked her._

Rukia sunk, clasping her shivering arms about her thin torso. _What horrible person she was_. The water continued to beat down on her back and neck, her skin fast becoming desensitized to the iciness of it. _What a terribly dirty, vile thing she had become. How could she ever look her proud Nii-sama in the eye and know she had wanted a Hollow's touch? _But, there was warmth. No matter her revulsion of herself at that moment, her own body continuously betrayed her.

Her arms slid apart, one hand pressed to her breast, beneath the flesh her heart beat fast. The other dropped down between her legs. The fingers that ever so carefully traced the shape of her opening came away slick with clinging pearl-white strings.

She wanted to laugh and scream at the same time.

Despite the horror of her rape by Ichimaru; _just the merest thought of Ulquiorra...of his green eyes, soft bi-colored lips, the hard swell of the male part of him_. Rukia willed her eyes shut, her breaths gradually becoming harsher. In spite of the frigidness of her skin, the heat remained as elusive as a shadow yet as real as memory.

She sobbed.

(*)*)*)*)

Blood was a reflective pool beneath the woman. Ginger strands lay splayed across her back and some trailed in the red. Ulquiorra made a cursory examination of the room, sensing easily the clumsily-covered tracks left behind in the reiatsu-laced battered body.

_Those two Arrancar_... Ulquiorra easily identified them. _Loly and Menoly_. He had noticed their aversive hatred toward the human yet hadn't thought it would've been acted upon. Ah, well, they would be suitably punished in due time though he was sure their Lord wouldn't be so harsh on them.

The woman had only been a lure.

A trap for Ichigo Kurosaki. But _another_ had been gained during the rescue doomed for only failure. It was well-known that Rukia was everything to the trash Kurosaki. Ulquiorra could only ponder the expression the boy would make when he learned of the captive's demise and of whom her heart _belonged _to.

(*)*)*)*) Soul Society(*)*)*)*)

Smile-talk-act-pretend.

In Ichigo's case, he scowled, hardly spoke unless spoken to, acted as best he could during times when Rukia's name came up as the first casualty of the war. But, it was damned hard to **pretend**.

Yoruichi's advice didn't extend far past that and Uryu seemed capable of passing it off; being the insensitive jerk he was. Chad stayed to himself mostly, silent as a rock yet dependable and only once in a while took tea at the Captain of Fourth, Unohana's request.

Tea? Sometimes the banality of it drove Ichigo nearly mad.

Life went on. There were battles to train for, abundant Sake in evenings to drink with talk always being of the upcoming war. He tried to avoid the invitations that almost every time Rangiku plied him with after he had finished training for the day.

Toshiro always shook his head and would walk off, muttering about frivolity.

In that, they did see eye-to-eye.

Ichigo always said _no-but-thanks anyway, Rangiku. You know I'm underage_. The perfect excuse not to hear Rukia's name spoken of as a martyr.

Then a forced smile to ease her disappointment. He didn't like to hurt the woman knowing how close Orihime and she had been. They couldn't even talk of old times together as mutual friends since the one they both cared for was a traitor in everyone's eyes.

Sake was synonymous to merriment. But, there were some who drank to ease their pain; both he and Toshiro knew that. Even then, it was unfair to place all Shinigami in the same category. Toshiro himself wasn't a bad sort, accepting the shared duties with Soi Fong's Second Division in keeping watch over _them_.

In fact it was during nights like these that Ichigo would simply turn his steps toward Tenth's office if only to avoid seeing the shadow trailing after him through the streets of Seireitei.

Once there, Toshiro was enough of a respected officer so that _he_ wasn't followed inside.

Rarely did they talk.

Toshiro was forever finding paperwork to occupy his time, writing up reports while Ichigo lounged on the sofa. The first time he did it, Toshiro had looked over and muttered for him _to_ _take his damned feet off the cushions._

Then, after that it became an automatic response.

But neither ever took each other seriously.

-_Wait_-

This was the worst part of it. Acting like everything was okay when it wasn't.

-_When was Urahara going to consider it safe enough for them to attempt it again?_-

"Kurosaki." This time Toshiro spoke. The sound of the quill scratching the parchment paused. "It has been decided that we will begin the offensive in two weeks hence..." The trailing off was delicate. Yet heavily laced with meaning. "If Aizen doesn't make the first move."

Amber eyes widened then in comprehension.

_Fourteen days. Within that time...they had to risk it! It was the only chance they would get!_

His eyes closed, hands fisting.

_Just hold on a little longer, Rukia, Inoue-!_

-TBC...

AN: thanks for reading -.- (sleepy)

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated and loved C:


	11. ObSeRvAtIoN

"Let's begin, shall we?" Szayel's cheerful tone washed over her as he indicated the same operating table, meaning she should lie upon it. Rukia did so without struggle, clambering atop the bulky old-fashioned operatus.

Two round pill-bug like specimens of Arrancars hopped excitedly around. "Shinigami! Shinigami!" They chanted which intensified her feeling of being nothing more than a rare specimen to study. The pink-haired scientist clapped his hands, shaking his head slightly, "no-no, Lumina, Verona. Kuchiki-san isn't for experimentation."

_So, she had been right_.

"What exactly are you going to do to me?" Her eyes narrowed, her chin tilted up, arms straight at her sides though ready to let loose her fists should he try anything. Szayel picked up a clipboard from the counter, making little tut-tut sounds like before.

"I told you, Ms. Kuchiki. I am to examine you to ensure that there is no internal or external damage to your fragile frame." He finished with a hint of mockery.

Rukia's brows drew together, her lips parting. "Y-You mean a _physical?"_

Setting aside his white gloves, he soon had donned a pair of plastic latex ones. "I suppose the term- _Physical_ is correct in human speak. So, yes." He smiled reassuringly, advancing again, hands upraised. "Now, please do not struggle, Kuchiki-san. It'll all be over...soon." From the corner of her eye, she caught movement.

Sonido. A slender flash of silver.

_No!_ The sharp sting of the needle lanced her arm, the plunger shooting something she didn't know, directly into her veins.

"..you'll relax. Relax. Just something to take the edge off your nervousness."

Szayel's voice drifted through her fading consciousness. The blackness overcoming even her fierce desire to remain awake. Soon, she had gone under.

(*)*)*)

"What are the odds?"

Szayel had never cared for standing in the man's presence. Weak knees, sweat standing out on his brow. The sooner this was done, the quicker he could return to the patient. "Very high, my Lord." The Octava clasped his hands behind his back. Aizen didn't face him and for that he was glad. "The subject has undergone supreme mental duress however her constitution is such that no ill effect will stem from it."

"Ah." The imposing man faced the screens. The trace of a bemused smile in his quiet voice. "Yes, it always seemed like she was of their line..." The sentence trailed off, distance was in the pose as if he were glancing into a vista of ages past. "..It can be accelerated, correct?"

"My Lord-?" Szayel questioned politely, his mouth pursing into a moue of some discontent.

"You heard the boss-man." Gin's silvery voice chimed in from the shadows.

"-Ah, Ichimaru-san. Please pardon me, I did not know you were there." The scientist said apologetically. The fox-faced Shinigami nodded vigorously, stepping out from his hiding place, "perfectly understandable." A gleam of red flickered from the slit eyes. "Now, 'bout Rukia-chan-"

"My patient is to remain under observation for twenty-four hours." Szayel said a little louder than before. "My fraccion are guarding her and none save for myself and the Cuatro may have access."

One of Gin's pencil thin eyebrows arched delicately, "you're saying I'm barred from visiting little Ru-"

"Not _barred_." He was sure to make the difference known, understanding the fine line of walking on the edge of the man's wrath. All the time, Szayel was perceptive of the fact that Aizen was watchful of everything that passed on. "Simply. I gave her a mild sedative in order to complete my analysis and gain samples of the ovum."

"-so, she's asleep?" The man's grin was sicklier than before.

"I am returning after this to my laboratory. My work is of the most sensitive kind, so please, Ichi-"

"Can't I stop in real quick, Szayel-san?" Gin persisted, his long thin fingers interlocking as he mimicked a child's pleading for a treat. "I swear I'll be good!"

Nervousness twisted in the solar plexus of the Espada, raising a finger, he pushed up his white bone frames higher on his nose, clearing his throat noisily. "-I'm afraid-"

"Gin." Aizen's baritone voice cut like a knife through the tense air. The Lord of Hueco Mundo half-turned. "There are other things to _amuse_ you. Kuchiki Rukia has become-" The slant of the dark brown eyes gleamed with malevolent cruelty. Szayel's body stiffened under the weight of the subtle increase of the former Taichou's spirit pressure.

"..something of minor importance to our plans."

The scientist wished for nothing but to be dismissed, his knees threatening to buckle under the onslaught.

"Oh, and Octava." Aizen glanced back to the image of the green-eyed Cuatro. The pressure didn't lift.

"Y-Yes my Lord?" Szayel fought hard not to stutter.

"Two weeks." Aizen's voice was a mirror of perfect yet deadly calm. "_That_ is all you have."

"..I understand my Lord."

(*)*)*)

_Green._

_Quiet words._

_A slight touch._

_The blankets tucked in tighter._

Drifting in the delirium of the drug, Rukia's hazy consciousness took note of these things.

_The blinding white edged by messy black. _

_Two cyan lines staining porcelain cheeks_.

She knew she had to be imagining it. Ulquiorra never would've touched her so gently, because he didn't have a reason to unless it was under Aizen's orders. Always an order; she was sure otherwise he'd have snapped her neck, she was trash just like all the rest. It was easy in her comatose mind to remember her old life.

Not that pain. Certainly not the blackest of shames that seeped into her heart, poisoning her mind.

_There it was. That touch again_. Cool skin brushing across her brow, disturbing the stubborn bang hanging between her closed eyes. _It was...soothing_. Even though her mind could barely formulate the coherency of how she could find something pleasant in the midst of the enemy's territory; she accepted it regardless of the source.

She even thought for a moment in the space of the next heartbeat, that she had heard her name whispered in a familiar voice.

But, now that had to have been her imagination truly.

(*)*)*)

_She will be yours_.

Szayel's Fraccion let him in, their shrill cries grating on his ears.

"Lord Ulquiorra! Lord Ulquiorra! Lord Szayel isn't present at the moment!"

"Silence, trash." He murmured, already knowing what they had communicated. _Their Lord was to be informed of Rukia's condition_. His eyes slanted to the plain nondescript room within the complex labyrinth of the Octava's quarters. A white-sheeted bed was in the center, facing the door. He looked upon the figure lying in it, noting the pallor of her skin.

The examination had been finished hours before.

He hadn't thought she would prove problematic for something so vital to her physical condition.

Yet on the chart, a dosage of an anesthetic was administered. Szayel hadn't written much else save for tearing in the rectal passage and other minor details that while passing beneath Ulquiorra's observational eye hadn't lead him to anything conclusive about the heart.

_Foolish woman_.

His eyes dwelled on her face, the impulse setting a strange tingling to the nerve endings of the hand residing in his pocket. _He wanted to touch her_. The awareness was unfamiliar to the green-eyed Espada whom rarely ever instigated nor desired physical contact before.

_Before Aizen-sama's order_.

His depth of perception had altered slightly. While acknowledging the lust he held, it couldn't be defined as love. Love was a human ideology, the concept of which held no meaning. Physical intimacy was of an entirely different nature, gratification . . but, ah. The quiet voice in the back of his mind spoke now. Careful, sly. Intimating.

_'..but that anger you felt was real.'_

It was. The rational part agreed on this. Yes, for the briefest of moments, he had wanted to Cero Ichimaru's face off. But, then, the rationality interceded, pointing out this wouldn't be a wise course as it amounted to treason.

_'Treason for a man whom fancies himself a God?'_

The sarcastic intonation was unlike his perfect clipped tones. Yet it was his voice. But, the thought was entirely foreign in its rebelliousness. Ulquiorra moved around the side of the bed, his hand running along the side, atop the crisp blanket. Expressionlessly, he took in the faintest shiver from the body outlined beneath the covering. One-handed he drew the mantle upward, placing it around her shoulders.

'...why the gesture?'

_Shinigami are fragile. It would be detrimental were she to catch cold_. Ulquiorra thought, his rational side approving this as the most logical course.

_'You just don't want her to be cold.' _

He ignored the voice, finding its reasoning flawed. Why should he be disturbed if she was cold or not and seek to remedy it? Brushing the contemplation aside as trivial, he laid his hand upon her brow, feeling her temperature. Mildly warm. Her hair was still slightly damp however.

A frown touched his face_. The difference in temperatures might lead to_- but, he stopped this line of thinking. It was a groundless fear. Rukia wouldn't become unwell simply by that. The human woman- Inoue, had been much more fragile as she couldn't take a simple Balas and survive. The Shinigami before him however, had survived a battle with the Noventa Espada though being wounded, she had recovered perfectly.

Which proved she wasn't as fragile as thought.

Her eyelids flickered suddenly, for the briefest moment, the unfocused sliver of violet-blue tilted up. "Rest..." Ulquiorra murmured, his hand seemingly of its own accord, passing back and forth across her forehead. _Why was he doing this?_ The eyes slid shut, her breathing evening out to indicate she had fallen asleep naturally.

He watched her a moment longer, making sure that she was truly at rest. _What was this sensation in his chest-?_ The Arrancar's gaze narrowed; the indefinable spreading of warmth inside a body that knew neither heat nor cold.

_Was it..because of..? _

"Rukia." The Shinigami's name vibrated in the still atmosphere. The woman was changing him in such ways as to make her presence not one of forced physical contact by order he was bound to obey, but one of necessity.

-TBC..

AN: not much happened. :( sorry. But there was some subtle UlquiRukiness. Wasn't Gin just creepy here? *Shudders* anyway, thanks for reading! In case anyone missed the note in moi's profile, this fic is updated in the beginning of each month C:

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Please review!


	12. bReAkInG

"Where am..I?" Disorientation thickened her voice.

"Safe." His monosyllabic answer vibrated in the still, antiseptic air.

For the longest time, Rukia stared fuzzily, head pounding like a steel band reeled inside. "Safe?" she repeated in a kind of under breath snort. _Safe_- the word repeated hollowly in her mind.

"Sleep now." he intoned, face impassive yet the charcoal blackness of his hair and incandescence of his green eyes stood painted out in the recesses of her mind. Somewhere. Sometime she had looked upon him differently.

_My...enemy_.

Then, because it rang false.

_My savior_.

Then, she slept.

(*)

The woman seemed so fragile lying in the washed-out bed in the room.

Szayel kept insisting she was merely sleeping off the effects of the drug and most likely wouldn't be fully responsive for another day. Ulquiorra with as few words left no doubt after this conversation, that were she not to regain awareness in the time specified; the Octava would be an accumulated mass of spirit particles in moments.

The Octava had reassured him again that _she would be fine_.

Little emotion clouded his reasoning, for he did not believe her to be weak enough to succumb to a medicinal anesthetic be it as it may created by Las Noches primary weaponry expert. She would not be worthy of such absorption of his, had she been any weaker than initially thought.

After a moment of longer concentration, he did come to one conclusion from many.

He would wait.

The next day, she awoke.

(*)

"Physically you are in perfect health.." Rambled the scientist. They flanked her on either side, Rukia abjectly refusing to have her gaze on the one whom had drugged her, so she had little choice but to turn and present her back to the pink-haired nut job who was disturbingly starting to remind her of the dreaded Mayuri Kurotsuchi from the Twelfth Company.

Little to her annoyance did the scientist even notice her rudeness.

"The incident with Ichimaru.."

Rukia blanked out the face associated with the name. Instead letting her cheek rest into the pillow, one eye focused on the two green staring down at her.

He didn't blink.

Didn't even appear remotely interested in her blood cell count, her blood pressure or anything.

So, why did he stay?

If she was wholly honest with herself, which Rukia was occasionally when the truth could be born without tearing her beliefs to shreds; she would feel the tiniest flicker of hope within _the heart_ Szayel talked so lovingly of.

What hope? She quashed the seed with a sneer though her face remained expressionless. Her Kuchiki mask was on, pride keeping her..._from what? _murmured a voice that sounded like hers yet infinitely softer.

-_Shut up_. She hissed to the voice.

The snap of the door closing quietly followed by Szayel's dulcet tones.

"I'll leave you two alone now. Must get back to my work..."

Rukia had the bedcovers tucked beneath her chin. Ulquiorra's stare was unnerving her and that was a feeling - _no_ a thought she despised above all else. _That she let it unnerve her_.

"Why are-"

"How are you feeling?"

She closed her mouth knowing she looked like an idiot longer in his eyes as she simply gaped at him.

"F-fine, I guess."

The dip of his head in acknowledgement was almost imperceptible.

Rukia scowled suddenly, annoyed that the question had embarrassed her. "Why are you here?" She used more force than perhaps was necessary but it didn't help that a dull warmth had crept unbidden into her cheeks.

"I should think that query pointless."

"Are you saying..._I'm stupid?"_

A plain, expressionless look.

Rukia missed a time when Ichigo would've been ranting on and on _that she was_-

"Are you hungry?"

She closed her eyes for patience, feeling her stomach growl.

Thank the Gods, it was muffled by the blanket.

"Yes, I'm starved. Get me something _decent_."

(*)

Surprisingly he did.

To the extent of perhaps what the kitchens could offer.

No hospital food of whatever gunk the scientist called healthy.

That didn't stop Szayel's voice from muttering in the hallway about _'not indulging the patient.'_

She wanted to kick him where it would hurt, but then on further thought realized her foot would probably hurt more. The door opened quietly, she looked up, hands folded in her lap.

"Smells...good."

Strangely it did.

Ulquiorra carried it in, standing with a tray balanced in front of him; resembling oddly enough a monochrome version of a waiter in black and white. _He had the looks to go along with it_- then she chastised her thoughts, wondering at the cause of them.

Maybe that drug was still in her system.

He set the tray down, tiny legs propping it just so on her lap.

She looked down at the chunky soup and warmly crusted bread, her stomach growling a little louder then.

Ulquiorra stayed, hands in pockets, leaning against the wall.

Somehow...she didn't mind as much now.

(*)

Two days.

Mind numbingly bored was a situation she had never anticipated having never been captured by the enemy, put through veritable physical hell then placed in a white ward with a pink-haired scientist and two roly-poly Arrancar Fraccion hovering around.

Then, again Szayel had a special kind of madness to his methods.

If anything he was indifferently _kind_, her tongue felt scalded associating the word with an Arrancar. Yet there was no other way to describe him.

Szayel checked up on her intermittently.

Asked if she needed anything to which she would either reply _no_ or ask in return for water or maybe an extra pillow to prop up behind her back. Then, the scientist would smile politely and bring her what she asked for.

Then, his Fraccion.

Lumina and Verona- whom introduced themselves more than once in rather high-pitched voices. Were of little intelligence. She could clearly appreciate the superiority of something of Ulquiorra's caliber to those of lower, more inferior rank.

There was something almost ... admiring- no that wasn't the word.

Rukia struggled to define the kind of feeling other than absolute loathing for the creator of Ulquiorra and Szayel, even as Lumina- or was it Verona hopped in on knock-knees waving a pad of paper and a set of pens.

"Kuchiki-san! Kuchiki-san! Is this what Kuchiki-san asked for?"

She took a moment to look down at the round, ugly creature whom was her natural enemy.

Then, smiled.

Her manners remained if nothing else.

"Thank you." And patted the head of the fraccion.

(*)

He watched the bloodied corpse tossed into the square cubicle prison, the lumbering Gillian devouring the body of the once-smiling human girl.

Gin gazed down into his hand, his grin widening.

_Rukia-chan would be so delighted to hear __**any**__ news on her friend!_

His hand closed upon the gleaming hairclips.

He would give them to her _personally_.

(*)

The main lab was silent.

Only the sound of a drawer slamming and a frustrated sigh punctuated the air.

She couldn't find tape.

Rukia glared at the Petri dishes and glass beakers lining like tiny testaments to medical science on the counters and shelves. Inside the drawers gauze packets and styptic supplies in clear plastic filled the confines.

_Not even medical tape_.

She turned in a complete circle, ready to launch herself at the next potential cabinet or hapless drawer since she really wanted to put up some of her drawings. They would help liven up the otherwise bland room and besides...Lumina and Verona had complimented her on them.

_So, there! _Vindicated for once, Rukia smirked to the other end of the room, her hands on her yukata-swathed hips_. She was feeling pretty goo_-

"Alone...Rukia-chan?"

That voice. Instantly a cold chill swept through her as in that exact moment she felt his slit eyes and happy grin focused on her back.

"I-Ichimaru." She spun around. She did her best- dammit! She did. Not to appear afraid.

The man lounged in the doorway, lanky frame filling it. "What's that hostile look for, Rukia-chan? Not a pleasantry for me?" he pouted just for a second, long bell sleeves covering his hands as he touched his breast briefly. "You hurt me real bad, you know..."

"S-Stay away..." Rukia hated herself for whimpering, for her stomach twisting in knots. For the urge to hurl her breakfast on the floor and for her knees shaking so badly she could barely move let alone back up as he advanced further into the large room.

"Stay away!" her voice came out stronger, more demanding. Her eyes watered yet she stared back defiantly as his grin returned in full force.

"My. . .that's what I always adored about you, Rukia-chan. That spirit! Such fire in those beautiful too-large eyes." His tone dropped caressingly lower. "That makes me want to pluck out.." his long fingers like spider's legs, made a snatching motion in front of her face. "..those lovely little orbs and keep them all to my little old self."

She slapped his hand away.

That was her first mistake.

Ichimaru seized her slender wrist, twisting it sharply behind her back. Rukia cried out in pain and terror, her smaller body bowing beneath his much taller, heavier frame.

_Please-not again-please somebody-somebody-! _

Her mind latched onto an image.

"Ulquiorra! Help me!"

Ichimaru chuckled.

"Ulqui-" _Not Ichigo_, _she hadn't cried uselessly for her friend_. Rukia realized with a numbing sense of unreality stealing over her. Her arm was gradually losing all sensation as Ichimaru's thin fingers clamped down tighter. She could _feel_ the bruises forming.

"Ah, 'Kyorra-kun..." the man whispered hotly into the shell of her ear.

Rukia felt tears leak out of her eyes, tearing down on her lip she fought hard not to scream.

"..he's at a meeting along with the rest of the Espada."

_Szayel too_. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. _She was alone- no, the fraccion! Where_-

Slowly her body was pivoted around; Ichimaru held her carefully yet firmly to keep her from escaping his grasp. She was looking right up at him. _No_.. her lips parted in a soundless scream. Blood dotted the immaculate white front of his uniform.

"They were adamant about it." Ichimaru pouted almost comically. She found little humor within his expression. "But! I simply had to speak to you, Rukia-chan!"

"Lumina..Verona.." Rukia mumbled.

"I killed them." Ichimaru shrugged as if he had killed a pair of insects.

"_Why?" _Everything was done with a reason in her mind.

His smile returned, "'cause they were in my way."

She went numb.

"...Oh! Don't look so sad, Rukia-chan!" his other hand stopped restraining her other wrist. She lacked the strength to slap him again. "At least I didn't order the Fraccions' bodies fed to the Gillians like what 'Kyorra-kun did!"

She stared without comprehension. "What are you..."

"Inoue-chan!" Ichimaru sang happily. "'Kyorra-kun didn't tell you? Inoue-chan was found beaten to death in her room a couple of days ago! 'Kyorra-kun ordered her body fed to the Gillians below Las Noches today- but lookit!"

For a moment he had released her, snapping things into her hair.

"...I saved these just for you..to remember her by."

Rukia reached up a shaking hand, touching Orihime's hairclips stuck in her hair.

She began screaming.

(*)

Szayel found her.

Numb, sitting beside the pierced bodies of the Fraccion.

"Shinso." The scientist murmured, glancing down expressionlessly at Ichimaru's handiwork. "I'm sorry, my dear. Once I saw that Ichimaru-san wasn't at the meeting I knew something was up." Szayel gently tugged on her arm, questioning softly. "He didn't...harm you?"

She knew what he meant.

What he thought might've happened.

She couldn't bring herself to vocalize the answer.

Instead shaking her head once. _No_.

Szayel helped her to her feet, leading her away from the dead Arrancar.

"They'll be alright." The scientist comforted once when she tried to turn back to look at the pitiful deflated bodies. "I'll fix them right up and then they'll be as good as new. So, don't worry your pretty little head, hmm, okay?"

Her guilt remained even on hearing this.

It didn't change the fact that Ichimaru had killed- _killed because of her_.

"Ulquiorra will come soon. He'll be very interested to know about this..." Szayel shook his head, cotton-candy colored locks swishing.

(*)

She waited, sitting up in the bed. At the foot was a pile of her drawings, neatly stacked and placed together. Most featured Szayel cackling like a mad scientist- _which he was_, and his two Fraccion smashing beakers behind him.

She had torn the ones of Ulquiorra-bunny in half.

Then, meekly asked for tape.

They now sat on the tiny bedside table, but she wouldn't acknowledge them.

_Orihime_... Guilt washed over her.

Guilt-pain-hatred-remorse.

Rukia clenched her fists, willing herself not to breakdown.

_If only I had been_-

The door opened with a creak.

Her head shot up, her lips twisting into an ugly snarl. "I hate you." she hissed with everything she had.

Ulquiorra the Arrancar- the Cuatro Espada of Aizen's army- her warden, her rapist for in the beginning she hadn't wanted it, her protector and...everything. Stood motionless, simply watching her with his too-bright, too painfully beautiful green eyes.

They were too beautiful to belong to something so foul.

"I hate you! I hate you! You- you fiend, you bastard-" she screeched, balling her fists into the sheets.

He looked her over, his eyes roving back to her face. "Are you alright?" he asked, impassive, disregarding her hate for as much as she screamed it and hurled abuse into his paper-white face marked by those strange green tear tracks.

Nothing. Nothing she said could faze him.

Because...

Rukia flew up from the bed.

The door closed.

He stepped forward, catching her wrists high as she sought to strike him with her anger.

_Hurt_- her mind demanded. _Scream-hate_- her entire world was shifting, breaking up into pieces before her very eyes. She couldn't breathe when his mouth found hers, when her jaw slid apart, his lips caressing hers.

When the backs of her legs met the hard edge of the side of the bed, she lifted them, hooking them to fit around his slender waist. He released her arms, her hands plowing then through the deep, dark locks at the back of his head, her nails scraping dully against the layered pieces of the broken bone helmet.

One part hate.

She sucked the warm wet appendage roughly, fingers crooking into his scalp almost painfully- she hoped. he gave no sign of even feeling it.

He slanted his mouth harder against hers, unmercifully raking his teeth against her soft flesh. Rukia thrilled at the pain, moaning without reason, losing every sense in the way a person whom had lost their faith might feel.

Nothing in the world mattered.

Not her hatred.

Not pain.

Nothing but him.

She was drowning..

Gods help her. Rukia shut her eyes, reveling at war with revulsion as his hands slipped inside her robe, stroking, searing burning tracks into her flesh. His mouth left hers, trailing sinuously down her throat, his hands slid behind her back; her mind then coming to the realization that he had laid her on the bed.

_When had he-? _

Then, no more thought.

His mouth slid around her tender bud, his tongue swirling around her nipple.

The teeth that bit down sharply drew both a breathless gasp of pain and stuttering pleasure from her aching throat.

"M-More.." she whisper-pleaded, arching up into his mouth.

For a moment the world seemed to stop.

That moment she would remember for the rest of her days.

_Surrender_.

_**Realization**_.

She wanted .._this_.

Rukia closed her eyes, betraying everything she knew in that solitary second.

_**Him**_.

-TBC...

AN: extra l:ong! Thanks for reading!

No flames!

Reviews please! :D


	13. PlEaSuRe

He did not despise the woman. Acknowledgement of that lack, born of their own disparate species centuries' worth of bloodshed; did little to explain .._**this**_.

_His change_.

If he had ceased to regard her with mild loathing, then what was left...?

His mind detached from the moment, looked upon everything with absorption. Later on, he would remember the minutest details. The flecks of dark blue in her eyes, the rough patch of skin just beneath her elbow, a healed scar adorning her ribcage.

Battle scars she had.

Then, more recent ones. Yellowish-purple fading to dullness that he pressed lips to in silent reparation- _for what_ his mind could not fathom.

_'For not being there to stop it.'_ Whispered yet another part.

But, Ulquiorra himself did not hear it.

The wo- no. Rukia was in his arms, against him. _Everywhere_.

Her touches were feather-light, ghosting along the panes of his breast, over the crater of his empty chain of fate. It seemed to fascinate her, and her fingers moved along the outer ridge, careful, once even questioning quietly- curiously _if it hurt?_

He said nothing at first, aware of the note he caught in her voice.

_Worry_.

His eyes closed briefly, his hand sliding over the back of hers, to interlock fingers. "No." Ulquiorra answered emotionlessly. Rukia's expression flickered, her grasp tightened, she leaned forward to brush her lips tenderly near the hole proving he had lost his heart.

"I'm sorry," she murmured against his skin.

_Sorry_..

Sentiment seemed meaningless, spoken in the hushed room.

His mind pointed it out as so.

How could she- _a Shinigami be sorry for her enemy?_

Once again, he couldn't fathom her.

Rukia was an enigma, one that his rationality declared would become his downfall.

Yet as her lips touched his, her violet eyes at once so clear yet so dark stared deeply into his own; he could not bring himself to listen to that quietly urgent part of him.

Rukia cupped the side of his face in tenderness, "again." She murmured.

He slid her down and within a few heated, quiet moments of passion they became one once more.

(*)*)*)

"Curious though I find it, Sosuke.." Gin stood a little behind Aizen's chair as always. Never a leader, only a follower; the silver-haired Shinigami's attention was fixated on that of the Espada, but his question was posed to the man seated.

"_Curious_, Gin?" Aizen murmured, coffee brown eyes reflected pale blue light from the great screen. "Of what process?"

He realized his mistake, chuckling quietly under his breath. It echoed in the silent room. "Your preoccupation- say, with 'Kyorra-kun and not the resulting effect on Rukia-chan."

Aizen propped one hand beneath his chin, the play of light over his face creating deep valleys of shadow along the angles of his countenance. "Ah, I see..so that is where your assumptions lie, Gin. It is...a- _mistake_, to believe that Kuchiki Rukia could capture my interest. She is..an interesting specimen, as you yourself possess a certain fascination for more than her redoubtable charms."

Gin had the grace for his grin to become a smirking half moon; "but, you did say-"

"However," his superior's tone remained light, friendly with just an edge of _something else_.

Gin knew it was unnamable. It was what inspired an adulating mix of fear and respect amongst the Arrancar. He waited in silence, gaze no longer upturned to the pale Espada engaged in intercourse. That did not mean, he wasn't fascinated- as his superior had pointed out oh-so delicately, with little Rukia's expressions.

_Her gasps..simply titillated him!_

_More_, so, Gin reflected with a tiny smirk; it aroused him to an even greater degree to watch her little breasts jiggle, her tiny, perfect body arch as she bounced up and down on the Arrancar's cock.

"..It is Ulquiorra." Aizen all but purred, stroking the keypad console with an elegant sweep of his fingertips. A noise of disappointment surged in Gin's throat as the camera feed cut off from the couple and in its place displayed a feed from the hallway leading to a set of rooms, one of which they were in now.

Time was meaningless to the denizens of the moonlit world; but Gin knew the time as one week before. His silver brow quirked as he glanced questioningly to his superior. A slight, satisfied smirk tugged on the ends of Aizen's mouth yet he gave nothing away as to what they were viewing.

The sound feed was silent for a few seconds in, then gradually a soft sound echoed in the frame's playback. _Footsteps_- Gin assumed, seeing nothing at first, then the camera angle shifted and the straight, slim back of the Cuatro Espada came into view.

Coattails fluttered with the efficient pace of his stride.

"'Kyorra-kun." Gin murmured, on the verge of waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

Aizen silenced him with a look, "watch, Gin."

He did, smile slipping away with each increment of time passing on the switch of the cameras. He understood even less as Aizen leaned forward and with another keystroke, paused the feed, then the images flickered back to a few seconds before.

_"Yes, however, physical damage did occur. It is merely-" Ulquiorra began, his expression inanimate, lacking emotion._

_"Ulquiorra."_

_The Espada fell silent in acknowledgement of his Lord's position._

Gin saw the hint of a smile- the same smile Aizen wore then, on his face now; watching _himself_.

_"Have you not done the same?" _

_The Espada answered tersely without a break in his monotone facade_. _"No."_

Gin knew of Ulquiorra's denial; he himself had been there, hidden in the shadows. Yet the importance of the scene as it was replayed, failed to grasp him. What was it that Aizen placed so much stock in..?

_"Ulquiorra..there is no difference between what you have done and what Gin has done in your mind."_

The last sentence rang out, then Aizen stopped the replay, glancing to Gin to glimpse his reaction. "Well?" The Lord of Hueco Mundo prompted after a short silence had ensued. Gin felt he had to answer something - _it was expected of him_. "'Kyorra-kun denied it. What's so unusual about that?"

A shadow of dismay flickered across the older man's handsome face.

Gin guessed he had answered wrongly- _once again_.

"Oh, Gin. You still do not see it."

He didn't, but it was his place to act as the other's _subordinate_.

_Just a smiling face_..

"No, I don't, Aizen-sama." Gin admitted with a grin. "If you would care to share your brilliancy with me, then I am most obliged."

The man merely smiled, a touch of mockery glinting in the depths of his eyes. "Not yet, Gin."

The silver-haired Shinigami pouted, "why not? That's not fair, Aizen-sama!"

"Hush, Gin." Aizen commanded with no less authority then he had begun with. He tapped a key and the screen changed back to the aftermath in the ward within the Octava's lab. "It is.._almost over_."

Gin wondered at the enigmatic words, even as he watched thin white fingers trail through delicate raven strands in an unmistakable gesture of tenderness...

(*)*)*)Seireitei(*)*)*)

"Would you please stop that, Kurosaki."

It wasn't an order.

Ichigo stopped tapping the edge of the scroll on his thigh long enough for the sound of Hitsugaya's pen nib to begin scratching the parchment again, before he resumed the nervous _tikking_.

After a long moment, a sigh filled the air, and Hitsugaya's brusque if not _civil_ tones came from the desk behind the sofa where the orange-haired Shinigami sat.

"I cannot stress this enough, Kurosaki. You must not-"

"-Not get excited or charge recklessly out because it will ruin our plan." Ichigo finished, rolling his amber eyes to the wooden cross-beam ceiling. He could just feel the Captain's weighted disapproval. It laced Hitsugaya's voice, "_your_ plan. Keep it straight, Kurosaki." The sound of papers being rifled together momentarily followed. "I'm not assisting you out of any sort of-"

"Oh, just shut it, Toshiro!" Ichigo complained, slamming his fist down on the coffee table that kept brushing his knees. The tea Matsumoto had made two hours before, rattled in the delicate green pot. It was untouched. Hitsugaya's sigh was even more pronounced yet the boy made no comment.

_He understood_- in part, Ichigo wanted to believe. Which lead the sub to remark, half-turning his face to the direction closest to the other, "even you think it's a load of crap that was fed to everyone. That's why-"

The sound of a drawer slamming shut effectively cut off anything else Ichigo might've said.

"...What I _think_..." Hitsugaya's measured voice came after another long moment of contemplation. "..And what I _believe_..are two very different things. Do not presume to know my views, Kurosaki. We are not friends."

"Toshiro..." The Shinigami sub murmured, his fingers tightening minutely around the scroll giving the official order of Seireitei's wartime status.

The sound of a chair scraping back then being pushed back in was heard as muffled footsteps crossed the room. Ichigo looked up expectantly and met Hitsugaya's tired, somewhat sad turquoise eyes. The Tensai held his gaze, as he spoke. "In this world, it isn't your beliefs which hold greater merit. It is your actions done for the good of mankind which are of the greatest worth."

Ichigo sucked in breath to challenge Hitsugaya's words, but a single look stopped him.

Reluctantly, he deflated; he had been learning patience. Hard-won yet necessary as Soi Fong's goons lingered everywhere. Hitsugaya's hand seemed small, child-like as it extended in the space between them. Ichigo, in the back of his mind sometimes wondered how a child could've taken on such an important post. Then, he remembered the other's power, and knew he could respect him for it.

"..This may be hard for you to understand, Kurosaki." Hitsugaya began quietly. "But, Kuchiki Rukia is one soul. One being among thousands-"

"But-" Ichigo started to say, determination prickling from the depths of his soul to prove the white-haired boy Captain wrong. Hitsugaya shook his head tersely, "You will not abandon her despite the belief to the contrary of her demise. That..." he seemed to hesitate, to find it difficult to go on. Ichigo's amber eyes searched the younger boy's face, for once _he_ stayed silent.

"..Your..loyalty...that is what makes you.. _inimitable_."

Ichigo didn't understand exactly what the other was getting at, yet he did understand the hand that fell on his shoulder, the weight light yet firm all the same. He smirked- cockily, to which a single white brow rose slightly higher at.

"Oh, I get it. That's why you'll be helping me..."

Turquoise eyes flickered to the ceiling, "now, you are just _full of it_." Hitsugaya let his hand fall away, he stepped back and Ichigo stood, rising to his full height.

"Aw, c'mon, Toshiro!" The sub flashed a rare grin, "loosen up, will ya! Just admit it..._we're friends_..and that's why you're going to _help_ me."

Hitsugaya stalked to the door, his face averted. "I will not stoop to say such a thing, Kurosaki." His hand lifted and rested inches above the sliding panel, "however, I will deign to ask- since you are hovering around with nothing better to do...would you like to go a few rounds with me?"

Ichigo grinned like an idiot at the other's back, "sure, Toshiro. Since we're such good friends and all..."

Hitsugaya said nothing more to that, except to call over his shoulder, "it's Captain Hitsugaya to you!" But, there was a hint of a smile in his usual curt tones.

(*)*)*)

"Captain Hitsugaya is supervising Kurosaki at present." Soi Fong said, her hands clasped tightly at the small of her back. Many wrinkles stood out on the high-domed forehead of the elderly man seated behind the large desk. Indeed the man had weathered many winters, overseen the orderly destruction and chaos caused by a single command. He rested his hands atop a sheet of parchment, spread-out for his perusal.

"Do you find fault with Captain Hitsugaya's abilities, Captain Soi Fong?" Yamamoto questioned.

The slim woman angled her embarrassed glance away. That her doubts had been perceived through her composed, stoic exterior... "It is just.." Soi Fong haltingly began, cursing her inarticulate tongue at the moment.

"Speak! I will not tolerate gathering dissension amongst you." Yamamoto's voice boomed in the wide, open-aired room. Soi Fong inwardly shook yet affixed her emotionless onyx eyes on the man's countenance, "it is merely Captain Hitsugaya's prior connections to the Ryoka boy that have sown a seed of distrust in my mind." She searched his expression for any sign that her words had registered as a viable threat in the old man's consciousness.

Soi Fong continued delicately after a long moment, "after all...it is the bonds of camaraderie that weaken even the greatest of us."

Yamamoto leaned back, the sound of his weight shifting in the wooden chair broke the silence. A creak from beyond the Shoji doors in the polished hallway outside was Sasakibe, guarding the office so that none would disturb them. Soi Fong waited in abated breath, remaining motionless even as the old man rose, slightly hunched until his gnarled hand had grasped a hold of the curved cane that hid his Zanpaku-to within.

The only sound then was of his shuffling steps and the thud of his cane dragging along the floor. Once he had reached his destination, Yamamoto paused on the balcony overlooking the walled city, his back to the Shinobi commander.

_He never directed beyond what was absolutely necessary, every thought, every action was of consequence. Along with the others whom held him in high regard_, Soi Fong believed his opinion on her thoughts would either give her peace or duty to carry out. She hadn't long until the decision was spoken.

"Increase the guard around Kurosaki Ichigo."

She bowed quickly, "yes, si-"

His tone was sharp. "-Above all, do not arouse Captain Hitsugaya's suspicions. He is still a respected member of the Gotei thirteen."

The Shinobi commander's hands tightened momentarily, her expression revealed none of her displeasure. "Of course."

Yamamoto nodded briskly once. "You are dismissed, Captain Soi Fong."

Soi Fong completed her bow and left in a flurry of white haori.

_She would give the order immediately...the Ryoka boy was not to leave their sights_.

(*)*)*)

.._How little time they had to prepare_. Yoruichi's thoughts ranged over the subject which had Kisuke preoccupied back in the living world. She had left him for a day or two, choosing the warm sunshine of the fields around the Rukon districts rather than the beginnings of winter in the small town of Karakura.

In the distance, Kukaku's shouts about lazy bums, had a smile curling the edges of the black cat's feline mouth. _Shiba Kukaku was a good friend_..._but, this was one time...it would be best not to involve her in_. Yoruichi reflected with soft, sad cat's sigh.

_She had gone against Seireitei in the past._

_Defying everything without care._

_So, why..?_

She couldn't fathom why this time..it felt different. In the back of her mind it was there, a persistent gnawing that ate away at her confidence. _Something was coming..something was_..

A particularly loud boom startled her, a torrent of curses was aimed at poor Ganju's head.

Yoruichi chuckled in her mind. Closing her golden-green eyes to the warmth of the day and the smell of grass- now burnt, rising in the air.

_**Wrong**_.

(*)*)*)

It was a mystery to some, why Hitsugaya had never requested another Lieutenant.

Matsumoto was everything he wasn't.

She was aware of the sharp difference between them.._every day_.

_But, on this day_..

_Seeing Kurosaki in Tenth's office_...she had needed more than an excuse of shopping to control her emotions.

In the privacy of her room, she withdrew a box from a small carved chest near her bedroll. Her eyes were focused on the task at hand, yet her ears were pricked for any small sound of movement on the veranda. She had requested of Tenth's patrolling officers that she wasn't to be disturbed for half an hour or so. They had complied easily, yet Matsumoto was aware of the Shinobi lurking just outside Tenth's compound.

_Couldn't they leave Ichigo alone for even a_...

Her pale blue eyes closed. The purple knot had been undone by her deft fingers and the contents of the small box lay open for all the world to see.

"Orihime-chan."

A photograph was inside.

_Her friend was a traitor to everyone_. Matsumoto didn't believe it- wouldn't. Somewhere in her heart, she hoped that her Captain didn't either.._but. What was there to do even if he believed as she did?_

Her fingers ran over the glossy surface of the smiling orange-haired girl captured in that single instant.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Orihime-chan..._be safe_."

(*)*)*)Las Noches(*)*)*)

The walls were soundproof. Szayel had insisted upon it, when construction of his lab began. Now, he idly lifted his head, turning slightly on the barstool to peer curiously in the direction of the hallway.

Certain rooms were also reiatsu-proof. Made to breakdown and suppress the known attributes of an enemy's bankai. Kuchiki Rukia's was no such room. It was a room. Just that. Szayel could feel then his comrade's reiatsu spilling outward. Erratic, barely uncontrolled.

He wondered if a warning was in order.

Likely the amount wasn't enough to cause structural damage, the nature of the energy different than what a Segunda Etapa entailed. Yet spiraling with it...was the Shinigami's thread. Szayel stretched out a hand in the air, the tips of his fingers instantly growing numb with chill.

_Her reiatsu was most interesting_.

_Cold like snow_.

Szayel withdrew his hand, pushing up the frames of his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "Lumina!" he called sharply. Soon enough the Fraccion appeared, waddling in through the opposite doorway.

"Lord Szayel?" His creation questioned.

Knowing it was of limited intelligence, he kept the order short, brusque. "Retrieve Kuchiki Rukia's Zanpaku-to and bring it here to me." He waved his hand dismissively and the Fraccion nodded stupidly, bowing in one clumsy movement.

"Right away, Lord Szayel!" Lumina chirruped then bounded back down one of the long maze-like corridors. Satisfied that his directive would be carried out; Szayel rose, preparing to gather all the necessary accoutrements.

It was most unusual that the quality of Kuchiki Rukia's reiatsu was changing.

_Evolving_ - he hesitated to assume, as only tests performed on her sealed Zanpaku-to would glean conclusive results. He had not placed much emphasis on Shinigami-Arrancar relations previously, the effect on both would be of great interest indeed...

-TBC

AN: I beg pardon. But, I am NOT a guy.

-_Just wanted to get that out there_.

Thank you for reading.

No flames!

Reviews are appreciated :)


	14. mAsKs

She felt different.

Lying beneath the thin, starched white sheet, the feeling was vague yet undeniably there. His skin was cold against her back, in the arm that lay across her ribs. It was a sharp contrast between the heat radiating from her own body and the coolness of his.

But, it wasn't unpleasant.

_The coldness_.

He wasn't cold.

She knew, treasuring those glimpses of a slip in his perfect mask, those she'd seen within the past hour- or how many hours had passed since _then_. Time was meaningless in the desert world and more so for she had never seen the sun once steal into the massive compound.

But, yes.

His mind ever analytical, ever finding fault or flaw in everything, possessed a keeness to it. He was the perfect soldier, telling her of the lack of desire he held for his task of breaking her.

Then, he was also the one who lay there, breathing so quietly. Pressing closer against his firm, slightly muscled chest, she pretended for a time to feel the thumping of a heart beneath his breast. Some part of her rejected the notion as foolish.

Hollows didn't have hearts.

It was only hers beating solitarily

_Alone_.

She ignored the rationality for a time longer, closing her eyes to feed the illusion.

His breath stirred the mussed strands of her hair, lifting them...

Lifting.

And then, she drifted off, lulled by the faint echo of a nonexistent heart.

...

There was a moment of cursory confusion in the Espada's mind as he awoke.

His mind struggled to define it-yet failed.

The sensation was unrecognizable.

Shifting some, he found himself pulling away from the source of warmth radiating from a slim, nude form lying beside him. The woman's dark hair was mussed, her eyelids resting peacefully over her violet orbs, her lips were compressed in a tiny contented line and-

He forced his gaze away from imprinting her face to memory.

..._there was the want to._

_The need to_-

He cut off his thoughts.

It was irrational. Without consciously meaning it, his hand curved up, thin white fingers trailing through her dark, raven strands. He smoothed her hair back from her brow, feeling her stir, a tiny murmur in her throat. He waited, still for a moment, to see if she would wake.

Then, after a time she became still, once he had stopped moving.

_Most peculiar_.

...

A knock sounded at the door, effectively ending anything else he might've thought. Straightening from a leaning posture he had the inclination to position the pillow against her. He did not want her to awaken so soon, the reasoning being that she could become difficult...the deviant voice inside remarking instead _that she would be more comfortable that way_.

Ulquiorra refused to give quarter to those thoughts. Arranging himself upright, he coldly intoned, "enter."

The door swung open soundlessly, the pink-haired Octava's lanky form filled the doorway. "Goodness, you've been in here quite so long, I was beginning to-"

Green eyes narrowed subtly on the other's face.

Szayel flushed, clearing his throat several times, "yes, yes of course." The scientist muttered, busily pushing his glasses up his nose and fidgeting with the clipboard under his arm. Ulquiorra waited in silence, his patience wearing thin.

At last Szayel seemed to recollect himself. "A message was sent for you from Aizen-sama. He requests your immediate presence in the throne room..." Szayel's expression twisted as though he found something distasteful passing beneath his gaze. "I believe this concerns..._her_."

Silence reigned.

Rukia slept on.

Ulquiorra kept his expression unreadable. He finally assented with a brief nod. Szayel looked as though he were about to say something else, his pinkish eyes lingered _almost_ sympathetically on the small form curled up beneath the sheets.

"Very well then." The Octava left, unable to voice his support.

Ulquiorra listened to the quiet snap of the door and the receding echo of footsteps. Only when they were gone completely, did he turn his gaze down to the slumbering Shinigami.

He permitted himself one brush of fingertips against her cheek.

A faint smile curved her mouth.

He silently left her side, redressing perfunctorily, without haste. In time he had finished, the tiny half-moon cuts from her nails not quite faded yet hidden by the white cloth. Little curiosity asserted itself in his mind for the suddennes of the summons.

_A mission_- the notion would've been plausible had Szayel not admitted it had something to do with the Shinigami. He refused to contemplate further on what such summons could entail in regard to her.

...

Szayel returned to the Zanpaku-to. The words he had nearly spoken, dying on his tongue. With the Noventa, Aaroniero deceased, it stood to reason that Aizen would choose to fill the position before the outbreak of the war; _he could not say he entirely approved_.

But, dwelling on an unchangeable thing was not productive.

Szayel ran a gloved finger down the ice cold tang, smiling a little as an electrical charge repulsed him.

The tests he had been running before being interrupted by the messenger, had proved to be conclusive in as far as confirming his suspicions. He could only assume neither Ulquiorra nor the woman were aware of had passed between them...

An effusion of power into one another.

With a smile, he began detaching the electrodes connected to the sword.

It was almost time to return Kuchiki Rukia's blade.

...

Leaving the maze-like palace of the Octava, he didn't look back. Szayel lurked somewhere in one of the observation rooms, Ulquiorra could sense caged reiatsu flickering inside. He didn't bother with a warning to keep Rukia safe, Szayel knew better already than to try and harm her.

His one thought of concern was Ichimaru. _Surely the man wouldn't_...but even he knew there was no way of telling what went on under that veneer of that happy smile. Soon enough he came to the great double doors, the halls had been devoid of anyone and he had passed the time in rumination.

"Ulquiorra entering." He announced in flat tones.

The doors swung open on some silent command from inside. As always the room was shrouded in darkness, white columns rose up on the sides, pedestals for the Espada, a centermost one highest, contained a single empty chair.

Aizen stood, a formidable figure in pure white, his coolly mocking brown eyes surveying Ulquiorra, lingering. "Thank you for answering my summons so promptly, Ulquiorra." He smiled slightly, meaning implied in the gesture. "I understand you were engaged in other pursuits."

He didn't rise to the subtle baiting.

A soft chuckle resounded from the space to the left of Aizen. Ichimaru's leering face hovered briefly, a grin tugging his thin lips apart.

"Be it as it may, war is nearly upon us." Aizen went on as though he had never paused. "One more should be added to the number...a replacement perhaps for the Espada lost during the recent assault by Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends."

Ulquiorra listened, yet did not at the same time. A growing numbness spread outward from the pit in his chest to the empty cavern of his being. Suspicion flickered, the pieces falling into place as Aizen with a sly, all-knowing look penetrated the heart of the matter.

"I've decided Ms. Kuchiki's usefulness has ended as a pleasant diversion."

Ichimaru smiled even wider.

"Your orders have changed. Begin training Kuchiki Rukia for a period of seven days. At the end of which, the conditional offer of the Noventa Espada shall be made."

He couldn't think of ..._anything._

Nothing to oppose the smugness in his master's tone; nothing but acquiescence.

"It shall be done." He bowed, sensing innately that Aizen had nothing else.

..._if she refuses_. The thought lingered in the air, unspoken as a question in which everything hung in the balance. _Her faith was shattered, but Rukia's stubbornness was unbreakable_.

Moments passed, his steps echoed quietly back toward the doors.

Aizen spoke once more. "Oh, and remember, Ulquiorra. If Ms. Kuchiki refuses, _you_ must destroy her."

-TBC-

Note: this was the chapter I was to post the night before we lost internet. I have rendered it here for all you readers by breaking it up into pieces in a notebook (by hand, urgh) then going to a public library and retyping it out. I apologize for the lack of updates, but there isn't much I can do. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I have started work on the new one already.

:)

No flames!

Reviews and kind thoughts appreciated!


	15. CrUeLtY

There was a refinement to the kind of cruelty Aizen imposed. Will alone made the Arrancar subservient, Rukia noted as many didn't glance again as Ulquiorra lead her down a specially built training area in his Palace.

She was reminded albeit briefly of the dark prison lacking light of Aaroniero's so-called palace; she shivered, attempting to present a determined face.

He caught it anyway. "Has your temperature fallen?"

She wondered how he had noticed. "No.." then after a long moment of gazing at his slender back, the flutter of the coattails a subtle elegance she found hard to withstand the appealing the picture he made, the emotion thickening her throat was humiliating.

"I'm fine." she replied, snappishly. She was _touched_ secretly, if the word could be applied to any part of her-their situation. His few words had struck a chord in her, one she refused to show. "So, how much farther?" she jogged to keep up, cursing silently his longer stride and her short legs. The attire she had been given consisted of a plain sleeveless tunic that went down to her knees, a half-moon was cut above the small rise of her breasts. Black Hakama and sandals with black socks finished the look.

She despised it and everything it stood for_. But, isn't that hypocrisy, dear?_ Questioned a snide voice deep inside. Rukia didn't like to listen to it, she had noticed its development sometime during her captivity; it always had a nasty habit of speaking up as it were, in times such as this. _When they were alone together_.

_'Who says I'm a hypocrite?_' she thought back with an inner sneer.

_You are_, replied the voice. _I am me and you are me_. _If the white deadness of annihilation that is Aizen Sosuke's banner did not exist, then where would that leave...him?_

She despised its simple logic. Glancing to the stony profile presented to her, a sudden new thought struck her. "What were you..." she realized somewhat too late, how it sounded. "_Before_." Rukia chose in a small voice, not missing the slight dip in his step and the glance from behind a dark curtain of emerald eyes.

He didn't answer, at least not right away.

"I mean-_before this!"_ Rukia elaborated, trying to elicit even a simple answer from his tightly compressed lips. Ulquiorra had not spoken a single word to her since before leaving Szayel's lab, when he had first explained to her of the training exercises she was to undergo. Something had been off then, she had sensed it and the feeling had only intensified the further they descended into the bowels of Las Noches.

The silence at once profound after her last uttered sentence had died away, was broken again by his quiet voice.

"My existence prior to this is of no concern to yourself."

Rukia came to a dead stop. Planting her feet soundly down, she glowered heavily at his back. Watching him walk on several feet down the corridor. "Well?" she called loudly, placing her hands on her hips. "Aren't you going to force me to go with you?"

He hesitated momentarily; Rukia wished she could see his face as he spoke. "No. My word is not law. Either follow, Rukia Kuchiki, or you will be discarded like _basura_."

Her mouth opened and closed in outrage, "you-you! How dare-"

His steps preceded her broken sentence.

She couldn't believe it; he was walking away from her. Pride demanded she stay where she was, even attempt to get some sort of layout in case of escape suggested the rational part. But, something else, something quietly stronger forced her legs to move, made her catch up to him if only to see his glance to the side, her expression ingratiatingly sweet.

"You aren't going to get rid of me so easily." she affirmed with a smugness that barely seemed to affect him. Neither said anything more until the doors loomed ahead.

"Prepare yourself." He said quietly, never looking at her once. "I won't show mercy on you now."

Unsurprised Rukia smirked, staring openly at him. "Good. 'Cause I didn't expect you would."

...Seireitei...

Eyes.

_Covert_.

Toshiro never thought they would go this far- they, no, _she_. He deflected Kurosaki's wide strike, aiming low. The boy grunted with the tip of Hyorin-Maru just inches from piercing his torso. Amusement burned in the amber eyes as well as chagrin at defeat; Toshiro knew he shouldn't have been so surprised that the Shinigami sub had failed to notice the Shinobi.

_They were well-trained after all to blend into the shadows_..

"Another round, Toshiro?" Kurosaki asked, stepping back, setting the tip of his blade down into the stone of the training floor. Toshiro neatly slid his sword back into his scabbard, pretension affected in his casual manner.

"No. I think that's enough for now." He rarely smiled, but this time he did. Alone they were save for the tightened ring of Shinobi hovering at the edges, but the smile held some genuine warmth to it. "You've done well, I must say...I'm almost impressed with how you've handled learning our techniques and fighting styles."

Kurosaki grinned, compliments were rare from the frigid Tenth Captain. "Thanks...but, almost? What's that supposed to mean?"

He turned his back on the sub, "exactly how it sounds, Kurosaki. Or need I define the word for you?"

A good amount of genial spluttering followed, but it was out of habit than true annoyance. Toshiro listened for the sake of it as they walked across the deserted training grounds behind the Thirteenth Division. For once Ukitake hadn't ventured out, and Toshiro thought about sending a messenger around later on to inquire about the frail Captain's health.

"..Toshiro, didn't you hear what I just said?"

He shrugged, "no, not in particular."

"Why, you little-"

"Just calm down, Kurosaki. Up for an all-nighter of paperwork?"

The boy groaned, the shinobi crept farther into the shadows.

"Do I look like a busty blonde to you?"

"Thank the Gods no." Toshiro muttered tonelessly. His senses picked up a far tighter security line following them to Tenth's office. Did Kurosaki's friends Ishida and Yasutora have the same strictness imposed on them? It seemed likely that Soi Fong had spoken ill or Kurosaki had been less than careful though were he to gauge the sub's actions, Toshiro was more than willing to bet that Soi Fong's steel tongue had slipped suspicion into Genryusai's ear.

As Ichigo goodnaturedly complained all the way back; Toshiro barely listened, his thoughts on the more imposing task ahead. _How to deflect Second Division's attentions when the time came?_

...Las Noches...

Her back collided with the circular hardness of a column, one of many lining the room. Rukia gasped, the air knocked from her lungs, her body by instinct alone, curling in on itself as Ulquiorra launched a vicious offensive, a Balas blasting away cleanly the top half. Dust and stone chips pelted her, Rukia kicked off a sizable chunk, somersaulting across the tiled floor. Flipping her heels over her head, she skated back finally, her eyes darting around for any sign of movement.

From out the rising cloud, the sound of a sword being drawn was heard. Ulquiorra himself appeared seconds later, bearing his blade in one hand, the other slipped indolently into his pocket. Rukia despised the easiness of his swing, how it took every ounce of strength she had to counter it. It was the disparity in their powers that angered her the most.

"You have some skill."

She had flung him back, wrapping both hands around the hilt of her sword. His calculating eyes watched her; Rukia felt it was a slight compliment, smirking in response. "Of course. I am a member of the Thirteen Court Guard squads. I'm not completely useless!"

"Yet you remained unseated." He remarked gazing upon her with those eyes that she felt saw something beyond her. "My existence prior to this is of no concern to yourself!" Flustered, she hastily charged forward, kicking off the broken pillar and somersaulting through the air to deliver a clashing of sparks as their blades met again.

It felt good spitting his words back in his face. Not that she could see any change in his demeanor. No anger or any sort of emotion clouded his apathetic expression. _Did anything pass through his mind other than on how to serve Aizen so perfectly? And...how...how could she still want to know everything about him when every time she tried, he shut her out..?_

Suddenly angered blindly, she ducked around his guard and aimed for his throat.

_I think I_...

Moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. The sword pierced through the collar. encountering little resistance.

_I love you_.

For moments, time seemed to stand still. No blood dripped past her blade. At length he spoke, "I did not think you would attempt such a foolish move." His hand lifted and grasped Sode no Shirayuki's tang. Rukia watched, unable to take her eyes from the sound of the ripping cloth and the pale skin it exposed. Her sword had pierced his empty chain of fate.

"I-you-"

"You said it yourself." He flung Sode no Shirayuki side, tearing the sword from her hands then vanishing in a burst of Sonido. Her eyes darted around feeling the whisper of sharp movement behind her.

"I am your enemy." Ulquiorra whispered as he drew Murcielago across her body. "Do not ever drop your guard before your enemy."

She felt the searing pain rip across her torso, blood droplets erupted into the air then she was falling back into a cloud of darkness. Surprisingly from faraway she heard a sword being sheathed then someone's arms caught her.

"You must learn..."

Rukia struggled to keep her head above the swimming blackness, her eyes fluttered open to see his face over her.

"...do not drop your guard before anyone else."

She felt herself nod weakly then let the blackness overtake her.

...

Szayel said nothing at her state. Only compressed lips and a shake of his hair. Szayel didn't need words to berate a superior on the state of a prisoner. Rukia's well-being, while seemingly of the least importance in the scheme of Aizen's ambitions, was on the whole…of importance to him.

Ulquiorra would not let that strangeness show.

_For it was an oddity, an almost deformation of character to think that the tiny woman had gotten beneath his skin. That he- Ulquiorra Schiffer had an attachment to any living thing_…

He was careful in settling down his burden. Doing a cursory check of her wounds once more. A furrow deepened his brow a moment later. As he'd previously thought, they'd require more immediate care provided by the Octava. While he was loath to allow the scientist work on rare Shinigami tissue, he knew it was necessary for her survival.

Coming to that assumption, he began to turn on his heel to call the Octava's assistance, when a slight murmur caused an unfathomable sensation to blossom in the cold regions of his sternum.

It was a murmur.

"Ichi…go."

Eyes of a deep viridian hue widened, a flicker of malevolence laced the irises. Impassive though his countenance remained, Ulquiorra's step took him far from the sterile confines of the room. In passing, he left Szayel to attend to Rukia's wounds, some vague undefined part of him refused to stay in her unconscious presence any longer.

At present, he decided it best to remain in his palace if not needed for missions.

Had he been able to define the sensation- ne understand its trigger, he'd have known what it was like to feel jealousy for the human boy.

-TBC  
AN: am trying to get the flow back for the story. x.x

No flames

Reviews always loved


End file.
